Going Once, Going Twice
by myelevencents
Summary: When a hospital fundraiser takes an interesting turn, House takes matters into his own hands. House/Cuddy with House/Cuddy/Wilson friendship. Takes place after S4 finale. Fun fluff.
1. 11,759 Dollars and 23 Cents

**Author's Note (Part One): **I started writing this to take a breather from a depressing chapter in the other fic I'm writing... so it's fluff, a little crack. It takes place sometime after the Season 4 finale, in Season 5 when House and Wilson are buddies again. Hope you like it! Reviews kittens and cupcakes (in other words, happiness). Also, I don't own House and the gang.

ps- I have no idea why I can't get dollar signs to save, but I'm sorry they're missing. They were there before I uploaded.

* * *

**11,759.23**

"How do you always get out of these things?" House whined as he fumbled with his black bow tie. He could never remember how to tie the damn thing.

Wilson sighed, "I haven't gotten out of anything. I have to be there, too."

"Yeah, but you're not being auctioned off like a Star Wars action figure on E-bay." House continued to struggle with his tie. "You are so lucky. She'll let you out of anything these days."

"Yes, thank God my girlfriend died; so I can guilt Cuddy into letting me do whatever I want," Wilson replied bitterly.

There was uncomfortable silence between them for a moment as House finally finished tying his bow tie lamely and Wilson took a deep, steadying breath.

"What do you say," House began, trying to break the ice, "I'll give you fifty bucks if you give me your keys and tell Cuddy I had to go home because I spewed all over the men's bathroom?"

"I say, no."

"A hundred?"

Before either of them could turn around, they heard the office door open behind them and the familiar clicking sound of high heels. "No way you're getting out of this, House."

"I have multiple escape routes. One minute you'll see me at the back of the room and the next I'll have disappeared."

She stood in front of him and frowned. "You _will_ do this. You_ will _be charming. You _will not_ be an ass. You owe me, or the hospital to be precise, another MRI. And you _will_ do your part to help raise funding. It is not an easy job to convince the board _for a third time_ not to hold you personally responsible for the broken MRI. And who tied your tie? A fifth grader?"

"Hey! Have you ever tried to tie one of these things? It's a lot harder than putting on some pantyhose and a Wonderbra." House raised his eyebrows and unmistakingly stared down Cuddy's dress. "Not that I'm complaining about Wonderbras because Candy and Michelle are smokin' hot this evening."

"Candy and Michelle?" Wilson questioned from the side of the room.

"The girls. I named them a couple of months ago. They really like me. Always staring. "

Wilson chuckled. Cuddy stifled a smile and rolled her eyes as she reached up, unknotted House's bow, lifted his collar, pushed his chin up and began to re-tie it.

"So, who else are you else are you prostituting this evening?"

"Brown, Liu, Keller, Jacobs, McClellen, April, Poole, Johnson, Evans, Prentiss, Shandar, Boies, Cherry, Klein, Cooper, Lincoln, Schwartz, Foreman, Chase, Cameron, Taub, Kutner, 13 and some nurses. All perfectly willing to donate their time to such a good cause. And they even do it without complaining." Cuddy pushed the final loop through the knot and pulled it snugly, adjusting it until she created the perfect bow.

House glanced at his reflection in the glass wall of his office. "Nice. Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Around," she said simply. House raised an eyebrow curiously, but before he could ask another question, Wilson spoke.

"Lisa, I forgot to tell you, Hadley can't make it. She's sick today." They all knew why, he didn't see the point of going into details.

"How bad?" Cuddy asked concerned.

"She'll be fine tomorrow."

"Great. Now we're one woman short. We already have twice the number of men as women."

"I'll take one for the team and withdraw myself from the auction to help balance the numbers," House offered.

"No," Cuddy said firmly. "You are not getting out of this."

"Well, then I can only see one solution. You'll have to take her place. After all, it is for the good of the hospital."

"I have to officiate with Wilson." Lisa chose to be emcee so she didn't have to actually be in the auction. The only reason why she even asked Wilson to help her was so that House couldn't use Wilson's absence as an excuse not to take part himself.

"I can handle it myself. I'm not that hopeless," Wilson said.

"It's not that, it's just that--"

"That you don't want to do it," House interrupted. "That you gave yourself the emcee job so you wouldn't have to pimp yourself out."

"It's not that I don't want to do it, it's just--"

"If you don't do it, it will look like you don't want to do it. How can you force me, or anyone else for that matter, to do something you yourself won't do?"

Wilson smiled and shook his head. "He's got a point. You'd be a hypocrite." Cuddy shot him a dirty look. She couldn't believe he was encouraging House, especially after she told him how relieved she was to not be on the auction block.

"Wasn't this auction thing your idea? How would it look to the board if you refuse to--"

"Fine," she said sharply. "I'll do it. Now, can we make our way to the clinic? People should start arriving at any second and we have to be there to mingle."

Cuddy turned and left House's office, the two men lagging behind her, admiring her ass as she sashayed down the hallway in front of them.

"You're going to bid on me, right?," House asked Wilson when Cuddy was safely out of earshot.

"I've got 500 in my wallet with your name on it."

"What if someone outbids you?"

Wilson laughed. "They won't."

"What if they do?"

"Then they can have you."

"Some friend you are, I'm not even worth a lousy grand." Wilson laughed. "Hey, can I borrow a couple thousand dollars?"

"Why?"

"In case I see something I like," House wagged his eyebrows.

"No. I don't loan you money any more, remember?"

"But it was so much more fun when you did. What do you say? For old times sake?"

"House, if you want to bid, you'll have to use your own money."

* * *

Cuddy was pleased. Besides Hadley's absence and her being the emergency substitute, the evening was going quite well. House, surprisingly, had been on his best behavior, chatting up every female to come within a one-foot radius of him. Wilson was an excellent emcee, funny and charming. Cameron had set the record high for the night so far; a donor paid over 10,000 to spend the next day with her. Chase currently had the highest buying price of the men; the attractive wife of a philanthropist paid over seven grand so he would spend the day with her on the golf course. Foreman and Kutner also brought in four-figures and Taub's wife spent 4,250 for some "alone time" with him. There were only a handful of doctors left, herself included, when House walked onstage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the next item up for bid, Dr. Gregory House!" The crowd applauded. "Dr. House is the Head of Diagnostic Medicine with a specialties in Nephology and Infectious Disease. He likes long rides on his motorcycles, candlelit dinners of Chinese take-out and snuggling at a monster truck rally. His hobbies include watching 'General Hospital', pulling pranks and annoying the crap out of people." The audience laughed loudly as House crossed his arms in mock-anger. "Doctor, do you mind giving us a turn." Wilson motioned for House to spin around. "Let them see what they're getting." House rolled his eyes and slowly did a 360. The crowd cheered as Kutner and Chase wolf-whistled. "Very nice. Shall I start the bidding at 500?"

"500," an cute blond bid.

"1,000," an equally attractive brunette at the back countered.

"1,500!" an pretty redhead yelled. House was pleased. All of them were hot.

"2,000!" an elderly woman in the front called. Her equally old friend beside her giggled. House remembered talking to her earlier that evening, she wanted him to have a look at her bunion. He had refused, but, apparently, too politely since she was bidding on him.

"2,500!," the blond shouted.

"3,000!," the redhead roared.

"4,000!," the old lady screamed.

"4,500!" The brunette was back in the game.

"6,000!," the old lady yelled.

"6,500," the blond offered.

"7,000," the redhead countered.

"7,500!," the old lady shouted enthusiastically. The brunette looked down, obviously she couldn't afford any more. The blond turned her attention to the man standing beside her.

"7,600." The redhead was almost out of cash, too. House was worried, he could think of nothing worse than being stuck with some old broad, diagnosing her bunion for an entire day.

"8,000!," The old lady screamed triumphantly.

The redhead was silent. House, looked at Wilson and said, under his breath so only his friend could hear, "Bid on me. Lend me the money. I swear I'll pay you back."

Wilson temporarily covered the microphone as he whispered his response. "And miss your date with the septuagenarian? Never."

"You realize this is war?," House threatened.

Taking his hand away from the mic, Wilson prodded the crowd, "Only 8,000? Ladies, Dr. House can cure what ails you, even if you don't know what you're suffering from!"

"8,250," the redhead smiled at House.

"9,000!" The old lady had bid again. House looked at the redhead, begging her, with his eyes, to buy him, but she just shrugged apologetically.

"9,000... going once... going twice... Sold to the little lady with the large checkbook!" The crowd clapped. House gave Wilson the coldest stare he could muster as he limped away.

Cuddy passed House on her way up to the stage. "Congratulations, House," she said earnestly. He scowled at her. "Look at it this way, you earned more money for the hospital than any of the other male doctors." He stared at her still glowering. "And I bet that redhead would give you her number if you asked." He scrutinized her for a moment and then smiled reluctantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the next doctor up for grabs and the last female of the evening... the lovely Dr. Lisa Cuddy!" Cuddy nervously walked onstage to generous applause. "For those of you who don't know, Dr. Cuddy is the woman responsible for this fabulous event." The crowd cheered. "She is the Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with a specialty in Endocrinology. Though busy with her work, she loves to try new things and enjoys going to plays and art exhibits. She is beautiful, intelligent, charming... the list could go on and on." Cuddy smiled at Wilson and blushed slightly. "So why not we skip straight to the good stuff. Shall I start the bidding at--"

"12.73?," House yelled from the crowd. "I think I've got exact change in my pocket--"

"Please, ignore the man with the limp. Bidding will start at 500."

"500," Dr. Vincent called out. For three years Vincent had been hoping to bed Cuddy. Wilson knew it, House knew it, everyone knew it. Cuddy prayed that he would be outbid, so did House and Wilson.

"1,000," a silver-haired board member countered.

"2,000," offered a man who resembled George Clooney. Cuddy smiled brightly, House frowned.

"3,000," Vincent answered, confidently.

"4,000," the board member bid.

"5,000," Vincent responded.

"6,000," George rebutted.

"7,000." Vincent almost seemed bored.

"7,500," George replied.

"10,000." Vincent grinned victoriously as George shook his head. Wilson waited for someone, anyone to counter. After a few moments of silence, Vincent called out, "Does that mean I've won?" The crowd laughed lightly. Though she hid it well, Wilson could tell that Cuddy was panicking on inside and he couldn't blame her. Vincent was a good doctor, but a wart of a human being. He was like a used car salesman... except slimier.

Maybe it was the fact that no one should have to be subjected to a date with Vincent... Maybe is was the fact that he felt bad for her... Or maybe it was the fact that she had held their group together for the past few months, that she had been there for him and for House, that she had been closer to him at the hardest time in his life, closer than anyone... what ever the reason, Wilson felt himself compelled to act.

"11,759.23," Wilson countered.

James saw House's jaw drop and he heard Cuddy quietly whisper to him, "You do know, I can't pay you back? I don't have that kind of money just sitting around."

"Are you bidding?," Vincent shouted, irritated.

"Yes."

"You can't bid!"

"Sure I can. 11,759.23...goingoncegoingtwiceSOLD!... to me for the price of a couple's cruise around the world." Wilson had said it as quickly as possible, so Vincent wouldn't have a chance to outbid him. The audience laughed loudly. Vincent stormed away, livid. Cuddy smiled at him, both stunned and grateful. House, on the other hand, did not look pleased or amused. In fact, he looked furious.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two):** I really wanted to do a fic with House freaked out about Cuddy/Wilson because I absolutely adore the "_Seriously?!_" episode. Next up... date day/night!


	2. Payback?

**Author's Note (Part One): **I want to give a big hug to everyone who is reading, alerting and reviewing-- it's like brand-new episodes of 'House" year-round! I felt like I needed a bit of a build before the dates, so please forgive me. Hope it makes you happy! As always, I don't own House or any of its characters. David Shore wouldn't let me buy them for the ten bucks I have in my bank account. Enjoy!

* * *

**Payback?**

Lisa found James standing behind the stage as the fundraiser drew to a close. She had been hoping to thank him all night, but had been bombarded by donors and staff members wanting to congratulate her on the event's success and her 'price tag'-- which had been the largest of the evening. She approached as he was saying good-bye to a silver-haired patron.

"Karen, it was great to see you again. Please stop by sometime and we'll have lunch," he said giving her a hug.

"It'd be my pleasure. Meeting you was the only good part of having cancer." As she began to walk away, she smiled at Cuddy. "You are a very lucky lady. He's a good man, take care of him." She patted Lisa on back before leaving them alone.

"James, I just want to thank you for bidding on me. I really appreciate it. I don't know what I would have done if Vincent had outbid you."

"It's no big deal," he said humbly.

"Over 11,000 is a pretty big deal."

"I was already going to donate the money to the hospital. At least this way, I was able to help a friend in need."

"If you don't mind me asking, where did you get the money? You haven't been selling drugs or gotten into gun running, have you?," she joked.

"It really is the price of a couple's world cruise. I purchased the tickets for our anniversary and when Amber...," he paused, "I cashed in the tickets."

Cuddy took his hand and he squeezed hers in return, grateful for the comfort.

"You deserve better than what happened to you," she said softly. He smiled. She had said it hundreds of times since Amber's death and it never ceased to make him feel better.

* * *

House looked for Wilson after the auction ended, but retreated to his office shortly after to avoid further conversation with the old bat who had "won him." He grudgingly congratulated her, told her to pick him up the following morning at the hospital and then excused himself to see to a patient- though there wasn't one. He had gone back to his office to sit and sulk. When he saw the cars leaving the hospital parking lot from his window, he decided it was safe to return to the clinic and seek out Wilson. House figured that he would have to hunt him down, that his friend would be hiding from him. He hadn't expected to catch Wilson and Cuddy holding hands, looking longingly into each other's eyes.

"So, pick you up at nine?" he heard Wilson ask, still holding her hand.

"Oh," she said, startled. "You want to do something?"

"Gosh, Lisa, I spend over 11 big ones on you and you won't go out with me?" he smiled.

"I just thought--" Cuddy stopped mid-sentence when she heard the very loud rapping of a cane against the floor nearby. Both she and Wilson turned to see House glaring at them. They dropped hands immediately, like children caught doing something they shouldn't. Sighing, they prepared for the worst.

House starred at them for a moment with narrowed eyes before speaking, "11,759.23. That is a lot of cash. You won't spend a grand on me, but you'll fork out 11,759.23 for her!"

"She needed my help," Wilson said simply.

"I needed your help!" House yelled.

"Vincent. She would have had to spend the day with Vincent."

"I have to spend the day riding on a Hoveround, hearing about bunions and grandkids and how the price of milk has gotten too expensive!"

"If Vincent had bid on you, I would have spent the money on you. But he didn't bid on you, a little old lady did. Not even in the same league," Wilson said, exasperated.

"He was just being nice," Cuddy added in an attempt to back-up Wilson.

"To _you_. Not to _me_. Not to his best friend. To his boss."

"Lisa is my friend."

"And since when do you call her by her first name? We don't call her by her first name. We call her by her last name."

"Well, you might not call her by her first name, but that doesn't mean that I don't."

Before House could start ranting again, Cuddy spoke up. "I'm just going to go; I've got clean-up to supervise. Thanks again, James," she added, touching his arm.

"_James?!_" House said, incredulously.

"Pick you up at nine?" Wilson asked Cuddy, ignoring House.

"Sure," she smiled, leaving Wilson to deal with House's tantrum.

"You're actually going out together? This wasn't just pity, then?"

"House, I told you. I felt bad for Lisa, I didn't want her to spend a whole day fighting off Vincent, so I bid on her. End of story."

"Then why are you two spending the day together? If it was only to save her then why do you need to go on a date?"

"A better question is why you don't want us to go on a date." House stood there silently, contemplating possible responses. "The money you were going to borrow, who was that for?"

"Myself."

"No, the two grand you wanted me to front you before the auction."

"I told you, it was in case I saw--"

"Something you liked. Right." Wilson didn't buy any of it.

"You never answered, why the date?"

"She's my friend. I enjoy her company. There's no reason not to."

"Are you over Amber?"

Wilson took a step backward, the question had caught him off guard. "_Am I over Amber?_" he repeated slowly, floored. "What kind of question is that?"

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

"Yes, I still have feelings for her!" Wilson shouted angrily. His and House's friendship had returned to almost-normalcy with the unspoken agreement that they wouldn't broach certain subjects. As always, House had to push things; Wilson just couldn't believe he had enough gall to say her name.

"So, you still love her?" House asked a little too nonchalantly. He knew he was pissing off Wilson, but couldn't stop himself from continuing with his line of questioning.

"Yes! And I always will! You don't just stop caring for someone because they die!"

"Then you shouldn't be going on a date with Cuddy. You're not ready."

Wilson chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, "This is about Cuddy. I thought, well, I didn't know what to think."

"If you're not over Amber, then you'll just end up hurting her, then she'll be bitter and fire you. And where will that leave me?"

"First of all, stop saying 'over Amber'... in fact, stop talking about Amber entirely. Second of all, it's one date. One day. We are not going to run off to Vegas and get married. We're just going to have a little fun. That's all," he said flatly.

"So, this isn't payback?"

"Payback?" Wilson said quizzically. House nodded and turned his gaze to the ground. "Payback for _what_ exactly?"

"For... everything that happened," House replied softly.

It suddenly dawned on Wilson that House was talking about Amber's death. "You think I still blame you for Amber's death?"

House looked up. "You wouldn't bid on me, lend me the money. You spend it on Cuddy--"

"You think I'm taking Cuddy out to get back at you?" House stood there silently, waiting for his friend's answer. Wilson laughed again. "This is ridiculous. No, I don't blame you for Amber's death. And no, I'm not trying to mess with you. Does the date thing really bother you?"

House nodded.

"Okay. Care to explain why?"

"I already did. You'll just ruin things and then I'll lose my free lunch ticket."

"Fine," Wilson replied, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"Cool," House said, looking relieved. "Now, just cancel your plans and you can come hang out with Gladys and me."

"I'm not going to cancel."

"But you just said that you--"

"I said that I wasn't trying to mess with you." Wilson interrupted. "That doesn't mean that I'm canceling."

"You said fine!"

"Yes, fine as in 'I won't press the issue since you don't really want to talk about it.' Not fine as in 'I'll do whatever you want me to do.' I like Lisa. I like spending time with her. And you haven't given me a real reason to cancel. Do you have a real reason?"

"I told you--"

"You and I both know that your concern for Cuddy's feelings and for my job is a load of bullshit--"

"You don't think it's a possibility?" he asked with one eyebrow cocked.

"I don't think you care about it."

"Then what do you--"

"I think you're jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"I think you want Cuddy for yourself."

"Yeah,_ that's_ it," House said sarcastically.

"I think you've wanted her for a long time. Come to think of it, the last time you thought we were dating, you freaked out."

"I didn't freak out."

"You did. You sent me flowers, you encouraged me to make an ass out of myself--"

"Trust me, you don't need any encouraging--"

"You did re-con work by grilling my ex-wife--"

"I was saving you from yourself."

"You obsessed over a guy she made out with at a party--"

"He was a patient--"

"Every time she's on a date you find some reason to interrupt her--"

"Coincidence. It's always for valid medical emergencies."

"You asked her to a play. You said men only ask women to play if they want to sleep with them--"

"It was a test, remember?"

"You gave her hormone injections and didn't tell me--"

"I don't tell you everything--"

"You constantly make lewd comments about her body--"

"Is it my fault she's got magambos and a ba-donka-donk?'

"You had your fellowship candidates steal her thong--"

"Learned that the Mormon was a cheater-cheater pumpkin eater--"

"You're constantly trying to impress her--"

"I don't have to try, I'm just impressive--"

"You let her help you. When we weren't speaking, after your coma, you let her help you--"

"I know I'm diagnostic magic, but even I need help sometimes--"

"Admit it! You like her! You want her!"

"I do not."

"Admit that you like her and I'll back off. I'll cancel."

"But I don't like her."

"Then I'm not canceling."

"Fine. Ruin your life. It's up to you."

"Last chance. I'm going to--"

"Save your breath. I'm not going to declare my love for her because I don't love her. Date her, don't date her. See if I care," House finished grumpily.

"Then, I'll date her, if it's all the same to you. Who knows? Maybe I'll even get lucky." With that Wilson turned a left House standing beside the stage, mouth open in total shock. James smiled as he walked away, knowing that it was just a matter of time before House lost his mind and came clean. Until then he was going to enjoy himself.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **Ok, next time date day/night for sure!


	3. Partners in Crime

**Author's Note (Part One): **Thanks so much for all the reviews, reads and alerts. It's like a stack of Wilson's yummy macadamia nut pancakes! I'm so excited everyone is enjoying the story. hope you enjoy the new chapter! And, as always, I don't own House... according to Cuddy she does :o)

* * *

**Partners in Crime**

House rapped on the door with the top of his cane. He hadn't been able to sleep that night because his leg started to ache relentlessly. Figuring that a drive might help him sleep he hopped on his bike and, minutes later, found himself in the driveway of one Lisa Cuddy. He banged on the door, this time louder, with his fist. When there was no answer, House decided to make his way to her bedroom window, knowing that a knock on it was a sure-fire way to wake her up.

He circled the building and tapped on the window when he reached it. He could vaguely make out her form rising from bed, grabbing something from her nightstand and creeping toward the window. He tapped again, for good measure. Cuddy carefully peeked out the window from the side of her curtains. She sighed deeply and put down the lamp in her hand when she saw it was House.

"It's three a.m.," she said, opening the curtains and then the window.

"3:28 actually."

"What are you doing here?"

"Got lonely. Came to see what you were wearing," he said eyeing her tight knit shorts and close-fitting tank-top. He widened his eyes for comic effect, "Totally worth it."

"Good. Now you can go home."

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Gotta use the bathroom. Unless you want me to pee in your bushes."

"Fine," she sighed, shutting the window.

House smiled, limping from the window back to the front door where Cuddy was waiting, now in her robe, with her hands on her hips.

"You know where the bathroom is," she said as House entered and she closed the door behind him.

"Don't need it."

"Then why did you say--"

"Lied. I needed a way in and it didn't look like you were going to be polite and ask me if I wanted to come in for a drink. Which, by the way, I'd love a beer," he said, plopping on her couch.

She stared at him incredulously, "I don't have any beer. Looks like you'll just have to go home and have one there."

"Coke?"

"Coke Zero."

"Yuck! Then bring me whatever you've got with sugar in it."

Cuddy threw her hands up in surrender and went to the kitchen to get House's drink. He put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned his cane against the side of the couch. Cuddy returned with a glass of apple juice, frowning.

"Get your feet off my coffee table," she said, handing him the juice and then hitting his feet until he grudgingly took them down. "You've got to go home when that's finished." She walked over to the armchair and sat down, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

House took a sip of the juice before putting on a coaster on the table.

"So, this date with Wilson--"

She shook her head, "That's why you're here? To talk about my day with Wilson?"

"It doesn't make you a little nervous?"

"I'll bite, House. What's supposed to make me nervous?"

"Going out on a date with a man who hasn't gotten over his dead girlfriend."

"I don't expect him to be over Amber. He's still grieving."

"But he asked you out on a date."

"We're friends, in case you haven't noticed. I like spending time with James. We have fun."

House grimaced at the use of Wilson's first name. "See if I were you, I'd be worried about what he expects from this date. 11,759.23 is a lot of money. When most men shell out that kind of cash, they expect a little more than holding hands in the park and a kiss on the cheek. They expect legs over your head, spanking and a hand wrapped around Mr. Giggles."

Cuddy laughed at the suggestion. "Who's to say that I'd mind? I like a good spanking every now and then."

House's eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped open in shock before censored himself, cocked his head to one side, narrowed his eyes and grinned, "You're screwing with me."

"It's just a date with a friend. Nothing to get so worked up about," she smiled.

"I'm not worked up," he said, picking up the glass and draining it of apple juice.

"You just wanted a glass of apple juice?"

He grabbed his cane, stood up and hobbled toward the front door, Cuddy following. "I told you, I came to see what you were wearing."

"Right," Cuddy said, opening the door.

"Mind if I get another look for the road?"

"Good night, House," she said holding the door open.

Before she could stop him, he reached up and quickly pulled the tie on her bathrobe until it fell open revealing the shorts and tank combo.

"House!," she yelled as she picked up the tie that had fallen to the ground.

He took a long leer until Cuddy closed her robe, ending his fun.

"So," he said, turning toward her after he exited the front door, "If 11 grand gets an entire day, how much does an hour cost? Because I've got some money saved up in my piggy bank at home. I was planning to spend it on morphine, but I know a better offer when I see one."

"Good night, House," she said huskily, shutting the door. He smiled. Cuddy in the middle of the night never disappointed.

* * *

House woke a few hours later to an annoyingly loud beeping sound. Smacking the top of the alarm clock, he groaned and reached down to massage his leg. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep because of his throbbing leg and having to wake up at eight in the morning. He grabbed the Vicodin on his side table, popped a couple before getting out of bed and hobbling to the shower. He went over the plan in his mind as he got dressed. Get to Cuddy's before Wilson, follow them to where they were going, go to the hospital to get Gladys, go to Jimmy's for some recon work, and then get some breakfast. It was going to be a tight schedule, but he knew he could pull it off as long as the old lady kept up.

He took the bucket filled with the hammer, nails and string he had set out sometime early that morning and put his keys in it before pulling the locked door behind him and limping outside.

* * *

House had parked down the street from Cuddy's, behind a big blue SUV, in the opposite direction he knew Wilson would be coming from. At nine o'clock, not a minute before or after, Wilson pulled into Cuddy's driveway. House watched as his friend, dressed in work attire, got out of his car, checked his appearance in the side mirror, climbed the steps and knocked on the door. Cuddy almost immediately answered, dressed in a knee-length, flowing black skirt, a low-cut white top with matching black heels. House sighed. She had dressed for her date with Wilson.

* * *

"Wow," Wilson said, taking a step back to get a better look at her. "You look great."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I like the tie."

He absentmindedly glanced down at the lime green Mossimo with black chairs. "One of my favorites." Wilson watched as she grabbed her purse and a small duffel bag from the table by the door.

"I didn't know what we were doing, so I thought I'd bring a change of clothes in case you wanted to go bowling or something," she said, noticing the surprised and confused look on his face.

"Good idea," he said taking the bag. "I'll put it in the trunk."

"Thanks."

* * *

_A duffel bag?! _House squinted to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Cuddy was bringing luggage on her date with Wilson. Before his mind could race and think of a hundred, all horrible, situations in which Cuddy would need a duffel bag, he saw Wilson pop his trunk and Cuddy lock her front door. Wilson then jogged around to the passenger side to open the door before Cuddy got there. He was holding open doors, not a good sign.

Wilson jumped in the car, backed out of Cuddy's driveway, and began down the road. When his friend made a left, House pulled out and started to follow him, making sure to stay hidden behind another car or back far enough to where Wilson wouldn't notice.

Wilson slowed down and parked on Nassau. House figured they were going to Small World Coffee and sped down the road toward PPTH, where he was late for his day with Gladys.

* * *

Gladys was waiting in the lobby when he limped through the front doors with his bucket. She was wearing a black velour track suit, white Keds and a matching white visor. He had told her to dress casual. He didn't mean that casual. Hopefully, Wilson wouldn't be taking Cuddy to any classy restaurants. If so, Gladys would have to wait in the car.

"Ready?" he asked as he approached her.

"Dr. House! I hope I dressed alright. My daughter gave me this for Christmas. I haven't worn it yet because it seemed a bit too young for me, but I figured since I was going to spend the day with a handsome, young doctor, I should dress the part," she said excitedly.

"Yeah. It's great," he said. She beamed up at him. "Ready?"

"Oh, I thought you might look at my bunion, since we're at the hospital--"

"I planned on doing that later," he lied. He had no intention of ever looking at her bunion.

"Oh, okay. What's that for?" she asked, pointing to the bucket.

"It's a surprise. Ready?" he was getting tired of waiting for her to move her ass.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she stood up and they began walking.

"Breakfast. You like coffee and oatmeal?"

"I love it!," she replied happily.

"Great. How fast do you drive?" he asked hobbling through the automatic front doors of the hospital.

"A little over the speed limit. Why?"

"I thought we'd take your car."

"Okay!" Her excitement could work in his favor, he had decided. "I'm parked just over here." She pointed to a shiny new silver Cadillac parked in a handicap space.

"Nice car," he said as she unlocked the doors from the remote entry on her keyring.

"My husband bought it for me before he passed away last year. He always could pick out a good car."

They climbed in, buckled their seatbelts and Gladys backed out of the space.

"Where should I go?"

"Take a right. We've got a quick stop to make before breakfast."

* * *

They had arrived at Wilson's apartment building (formerly Amber's) in record time. Gladys was not

one of those little old ladies who drove five miles an hour down the highway, much to House's relief.

"Where are we?"

"A friend of mine wanted me to feed his cat while he was away."

"Oh."

"Come on," he got of the car, picked up his bucket and motioned for her to follow him. She jumped out of the car pretty quickly for an old goat and was close behind him as they crossed the street and entered the building. House glanced at his watch. It was 9:20. He knew that Cuddy and Wilson would stay at breakfast for an hour, but after that they would probably leave and he would lose them.

They rode the elevator and walked down the second floor in merciful silence. When they reached the door to the apartment, House lifted up the welcome mat to find Wilson's spare key. He opened the door and let Gladys into the apartment before closing it behind him.

"Your friend has a very nice apartment," Gladys said, looking around. House shrugged. He began searching for a step stool.

"Hey, do you see a ladder or something?"

"Why do you need a ladder? I thought we were here to feed a cat," she eyed him suspiciously.

"I have a confession to make," he said searching for something to stand on. "We're not here to feed a cat."

"Then why are we here?"

"Do you see a stool or something?"

"I would check the kitchen, that's where I keep my stool," House limped into the kitchen and began rummaging through things. "Doctor, why are we in your friend's apartment?"

"Have you ever seen a James Bond movie?"

"I'm 71. I'm not dead and I haven't been living in a cave all my life."

"You know how Bond falls for a girl, then later in the movie finds out that she's evil and things go horribly wrong?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, my friend is Bond and he's about to go on a date with the evil chick. I've warned him, but he won't listen. So I'm taking matters into my own hands to make sure things don't go horribly wrong."

"The girl he's going on a date with is evil?"

"She's not right for him."

"That doesn't make her evil, does it?"

"I was just comparing... bottom line is they shouldn't be together. They're making a mistake."

"You said 'they' instead of 'he'. Do you know the woman too?"

"Yeah. She's a... friend, I guess."

"Ahh." Gladys nodded her head with understanding.

"Ahh?"

"You must like her."

"I called her evil. Do you call people who you like evil?" House said pulling a small, folded stepstool out of the pantry.

"You said that she's not right for him."

"She's not." House carried the stool to the front door and unfolded it.

"Meaning that she's right for someone. I assume you."

"Can you bring me that bucket?"

"I've got two boys and three grandsons, you can't fool me."

"Your women's intuition must have taken the day off. Now, can you bring me that bucket?"

Gladys picked up the pail and glanced in. "What's this for again? I don't want to do anything illegal. You're cute, but I'm not going to jail for you," she said handing him the bucket.

"Before I divulge any of my cunning plan, I've got to be sure we're in this together. You haven't been completely supportive so far. How do I know I can trust you?"

"Are you going to break any laws?"

"I'm not planning on it." Though he had considered murder several times over the last few minutes.

"Then it looks like we're partners in crime. Should we have code names? I've always wanted a nickname."

"How about I call you Gladys and you call me House?"

"If we're really in this together, I can't call you by your last name."

"Greg then. Now, I need you to climb this stool and pull down the books from the high shelf to the right of the door. I'd do it, but I've got this cane."

"What are you planning to do--"

"Don't you mean what are _we_ planning to do?"

"What are _we_ planning to do?," she asked, climbing the stool slowly. "Having a bucket of water fall on his head when he opens the door?"

"Your women's intuition, looks like it's back."

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I was planning on stopping the chapter after breakfast, but it was getting too long, so I stopped here. Next time, breakfast and at least part of lunch... and of course more Jealous!House antics.


	4. Yar

**Author's Note (Part One): **It's been a long week... and it's only Wednesday! The wonderful reviews, reads, story alerts are getting me through this hell! Thanks for saving my life, guys (I know, a tad melodramatic)! Here it is, finally, the date... through breakfast, at least. I hope you like it! And David Shore owns these guys... who knew?

* * *

**Yar**

9:52 was the time according to House's watch. He had glanced at it seventeen times in the last minute or so, praying that time would stand still so he and Gladys wouldn't miss Cuddy and Wilson. Gladys was proving herself an excellent mischief maker. Not only had the old broad helped him rig the water bucket, she had deduced Wilson's plan for lunch. The revelation allowed House to call the Witherspoon Baking Company and change the picnic basket for two Wilson reserved to a picnic basket for four. The phone call took a little longer than expected and now he and the grandma were hitting every red light on their way to breakfast. _Only two and a half blocks left_. House had decided that if the light didn't change within the next ten seconds, he was going to get out of the car and limp to the coffee shop.

* * *

Cuddy laughed loudly and Wilson followed suit. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard. Lisa's chortle was contagious and he found himself enjoying every minute more and more. James had been surprised and relieved that House hadn't popped up yet.

"Do you remember the last date we went on?" she quizzed him between giggles.

"Ahh yes. That bondage exhibit. Bicycle pumps, lower intestines, good times," he chuckled.

"Why didn't you ask me out again? I know technically it wasn't a real date, but we could have--"

"It was a date. I just knew you would turn me down if I said it was a date."

"That doesn't answer my question," she smiled.

"Because House... House."

She rose an eyebrow. "You decided you wanted to date him instead?," she joked.

James was trying to decide which version of the truth he wanted to give Lisa. House could never, and would never, bring himself to say that he wanted Cuddy for himself. So when his friend requested that they "forget the whole damn mess" after his two dates with her, Wilson knew that it was Greg asking him to stop dating Lisa. And he had happily. But House's constant refusal of his feelings and his continual jealous behavior was starting to drive Wilson up the wall. In his opinion, House should have seized the moment after Amber's death and his close brush with it to tell Cuddy how he felt. But, of course, he hadn't. And more than anything, that pissed him off. House could be happy and be with the woman he loved, but he chose not to. He chose misery. It was ridiculous and unfair. And Wilson was tired of sitting idly by, doing nothing.

"He didn't want me to date you. Kept saying you would eat my head after we mated."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "Sounds like him."

"Yeah. He even went so far as to harass my ex-wife, Bonnie. It was getting a little too weird and he was too persistent, so I just gave up."

"Lucky you did," she said sincerely. "Or you might never have gotten to know Amber."

"That was months later. With my record we could have been married and gotten divorced by then." They both laughed loudly at the idea.

"Oh God," Cuddy groaned, mirth gone.

"What?" Wilson asked, turning in his seat to see whatever was causing Lisa's sudden change in mood. He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"Greetings, campers," House said cheerily as he pulled up a chair to their table for two. Gladys followed close behind him, two coffees in hand. "Hey, Glad Rags, pull up a chair. They don't mind if we join them."

"Actually--" Wilson started, but was interrupted by Cuddy's scream. Gladys had made the mistake of trying to move the chair with both coffees still in hand and had managed to dump her entire grande iced coffee down Cuddy's shirt.

"Jeez Louise! I am so sorry!" Gladys apologized, putting down House's drink on the table.

"Here, allow me," House offered, grabbing a few napkins and quickly beginning to rub Cuddy's shirt.

"I've got it! I've got it!" she shouted, batting House's hands away from her breasts. "Touch me there again and you won't have fingers!"

"Fine," he grinned, raising his hands in the air, then taking a sip of his coffee. "I was just trying to be helpful."

"Yeah, right," she mumbled, trying to futilely dry her shirt with two already soaked napkins.

"Lisa, do you want me to get your bag out of the trunk? Or I could take you home--"

"No," she interrupted Wilson. "I don't need to go home, but the bag would be great. I can get cleaned up in the bathroom." She was not going to let House ruin her day with James no matter how hard he tried.

"I really feel horrible," Gladys interjected. "Would you like me to get your clothes dry-cleaned? It's the least I can do."

"No, really, it's fine." Cuddy smiled at her stiffly.

"Well, if you change your mind, sweetie, you just let me know."

* * *

When Wilson returned with the duffel bag, Cuddy beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom and Gladys excused herself to buy another coffee. So far things were going to plan. Thanks to his evil genius of a partner, he discovered that Cuddy's luggage only contained a casual change of clothes and, even better, Wilson was going to have to cancel his reservations at some swanky restaurant since Cuddy would be wearing jeans. House looked at Wilson with a satisfied grin on his face. Wilson wanted to wipe it off.

"I guess you're proud of yourself."

"Why, whatever do you mean?," he asked, feigning innocence.

"Shame on you, involving a little old lady in your dastardly plans."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he deadpanned. "Gladys is just a clumsy little old lady."

"So, you're just going to follow us around all day? Bringing frustration and misery with you?"

"Gladys and I are going bowling. Why don't you take Cuddy home and come with us?"

Wilson shook his head, smiling, "You had your chance, but you wouldn't take it. Now it's my turn, so butt out if you know what's good for you."

"Jimmy, is that a threat?" House laughed. "Because I'm pretty sure you should be begging me to take it easy on you, not challenging me."

"Do what you will, House. I'm not competing with you. I don't have to."

Before House could respond, Gladys returned to the table with her second iced coffee and carefully sat down, making sure not spill.

"Dr. Wilson, is it?"

"Yes," James responded.

"Greg tells me you're on a date with an evil woman."

"Greg, huh?" Wilson raised an eyebrow in House's direction, who just shrugged his shoulders.

"That's me," Cuddy said, returning from the bathroom. "The evil witch. Corrupting innocent doctors, cursing patients, burning down buildings. You know, the usual."

Wilson chuckled and so did Gladys. House was too busy appreciating Cuddy's tight, worn-in jeans and low-cut pink t-shirt to process what she said. Gladys leaned over toward House and whispered, "You might want to stop drooling. It not exactly inconspicuous."

"Well, it's been nice meeting you, Gladys," Cuddy held out her hand and the older woman shook it gently.

"You're leaving us? I hope it's not because of the coffee. I feel just awful."

"No, of course not," Cuddy reassured her. "We have to leave or we'll be late--"

"Late for what I've planned next," Wilson finished cryptically.

"What are you doing?" Gladys asked. "Maybe we could join you, continue our double date."

"No, no. We wouldn't want you to have to share House. After all, we have the pleasure of his company almost every day and you only have this one. No, I think you'd have a much better time without us."

Lisa picked up her purse and bag, James threw a five dollar tip on the table and they said their quick good-byes before House or Gladys could object. When his friends were clear of the door, House grabbed his cane and motioned for his companion to follow him. "We've got to go or we'll lose them," he said hobbling toward the entrance.

"They seem like such nice people. Are you sure that you want to ruin their date?" Gladys huffed, struggling to keep up with House's quickening pace.

"Are you backing out on me?" he said, closing the distance between himself and the Cadillac.

"No, I--"

"Because I thought we were in this together--"

"We are, we are," she shouted, winded.

"Good. Now, toss me the keys. I'm going to drive."

* * *

"I love this movie," Cuddy whispered excitedly. There was really no need from her to be quiet. She and Wilson were two of seven people in the theater and no one else was sitting anywhere near them.

"I thought you might," he smiled.

"I know almost all the words. Right now, he's about to say--"

"_Oh, my dear Red, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you; you need me too much," _Wilson and the actor on screen said simultaneously. Cuddy laughed.

"You know, I've never seen it in the theater before."

"That's what I love about this place. Every month they play a different classic in addition to new releases."

On screen Dexter was arguing with Tracy while Mike looked on sheepishly. In the theater Cuddy was entranced by the movie while Wilson starred at her.

"You remind me of her."

"Katharine Hepburn?" she asked in a way that made it seem impossible.

"Yes, but more the character. Smart, beautiful, quick-witted,_ yar,_" he said with a smile. Even by the dim light of the movie screen he could see her blush.

"I always thought of myself more like Liz. In the background, in love with Mike, waiting for him to stop mooning over Tracy."

"Sorry, Lisa, you're no Liz."

"What about you? Are you Dexter?"

"No. House, he's Dexter."

"Then you're Mike?"

"No. House is Mike, too."

"He can't be both Mike and Dexter."

"He is. You're Tracy, he's Mike and Dexter and I'm Kitteridge, stuck outside, desperately wanting to be a part of the action."

"Well, I think you're Cary Grant."

Wilson smiled. "Cary Grant, maybe. C. K. Dexter Haven, no."

"_My, she was yar," _Katharine Hepburn, Cuddy and Wilson said in unison. The two friends laughed quietly at their film-geekdom, throughly enjoying the movie together.

* * *

"I don't think we're going to find them. It's been thirty minutes. Let's go doing something else. We could go bowling or to my seniors' club. We can play Pinochle there. Do you know how to play Pinochle, Greg? I could teach you if you don't. Or maybe we can go back to the hospital. You can finally take a look at my bunion--"

"Jesus, woman! Do you ever shut up? You haven't taken a breath since we got in the damn car!"

"Sorry," Gladys said without a hint of remorse. "I don't like awkward silences. And I'm bored. This was not the fun-filled date that I imagined when I bought you."

"If you had moved out of the coffee shop a little faster and not argued with me about driving then we could've followed them and we'd be having fun."

"I think you would be having fun, I'm not so sure I would."

"Are you kidding? Two hours ago you were giddy with evil plots and cunning plans!"

"That was before I met them; they seem like such a nice couple--"

"They are not a couple!" House bellowed. The fossil was driving him _insane_.

"They sure looked like it when we entered the coffee shop. Laughing, smiling having a great time--"

"The only reason he's taking her on a date is bug me."

"I thought he looked very interested--"

"Well, he's not!" Saying it out loud almost made it believable. "His girlfriend died a few months ago and he blames me because I couldn't save her so he's taking out Cuddy to get back at me!"

"Why would he take someone on a date to get back at you? Why wouldn't he just short your sheets or hide your car keys or--"

"Because I--"

Gladys raised her eyebrows expectantly, "Because you?"

"Because I don't want him to!"

"Why? Why don't you want him to?"

"I just don't, alright! Now will you stop talking so I can hear myself think."

The car was quiet for the next five minutes. House was running over the list of places Wilson might take a date when Gladys opened her mouth.

"You can't even say it. I don't know if I want to help someone if they can't even say it. And it's not like you're saying it to him or to her; it's just me, a woman you will probably never see again after tonight."

"What are you blathering on about now?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like this girl?"

"Because I don't."

"Of course you do. The only people this crazy are people in love. And you are as looney tunes as I have ever seen."

"I'm not in love; I'm just a bastard who likes to screw with people." House said, his patience wearing very thin.

"I can already tell that you are bastard and I'm sure you like to screw with people, but that doesn't mean that you aren't in love."

"Listen, as fascinating as this conversation is, can we just drop it? Otherwise we risk me committing geriatricide and I really don't like jail."

"For now. I'm not promising I won't bring it up again later."

"Fine. Just make sure you do it right after I've taken my Vicodin, it'll be easier to ignore you."

The car lapsed into blissful silence again. House turned the radio up as Gladys drummed her fingers on the door. It didn't look like he was going to unearth Wilson and Cuddy. So he circled around the block and began heading toward the Witherspoon Baking Company... and the free picnic basket waiting for him.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I hope you liked it! Please excuse my love for "The Philadelphia Story"-- it just seemed like a movie Wilson would have the poster of hanging in his office. Next time, picnic!


	5. A Pic ah nic Basket

**Author's Note (Part One): **Sorry it's been a week, I didn't mean for it to take this long, but I got sidetracked. Thanks for all the love you've been sending my way! The reviews, reads and alerts are very much appreciated! The chapter's a little shorter than the others, but I plan on updating again before the weekend... at least I really want to. I hope you like it! A quick shout-out to wrytingtyme who made a comment about Yogi Bear in her review for chapter four. I liked the comparison so much I had to put it in! And of course, House belongs to someone else, so please don't sue me.

* * *

**A Pic-ah-nic Basket**

The girl at the counter stared at Wilson confused. "That's so weird. I know they prepared it. A picnic basket for four, right?"

"Two," Wilson corrected.

"Let me go get Denver, he was working the register a little earlier. I don't think he's left yet," the teenager said before disappearing into the kitchen.

James looked at Lisa apologetically. "I have no idea what happened. I placed the order before I picked you up this morning. They should have it--"

"There's nothing to worry about," she smiled. " I'm sure they can make us a new one if they can't find it."

A college student with dirty blond surfer hair wearing khaki cargo shorts and a shirt that read 'When I play doctor, I play to win' exited the kitchen, followed by the counter girl.

"This is Denver," she said, gesturing toward the student. "He handled that ordered this morning. If you'll excuse me," with that she went to another register and motioned for the next customer.

"Hey, how can I help you?" he asked while blatantly appraising Cuddy. James and Lisa exchanged looks, both smiled.

"I ordered a picnic basket for two early this morning. They say you might know where it is," Wilson replied.

"What name was it under?"

"James Wilson."

"Yeah, I remember that guy. Pretty cool, said he liked my shirt."

"That's impossible. I'm James Wilson and I haven't been in here today."

"No, it was some other guy. Came in to pick up a picnic basket for four. He had the credit card on the order form, so I gave him the goods."

"No, there must be some mistake," Wilson said, searching through his wallet. " I know it was here earlier today. I paid for breakfast and put back in my... House. Of course."

"You think House stole your credit card?" Lisa asked in disbelief. "But when would he have had the time to--"

"When I went to get your bag from the trunk. I left it on the table. He must have taken it then." Wilson turned his attention to the student, "This guy, did he say where he was heading?"

"Yeah, said he was taking his mother on a picnic in the park. He has some special place he likes to go and think. His mom was with him; he made her carry the basket because of his cane." Denver looked at Cuddy. "So, how old are you?"

"Excuse me?" Cuddy asked, slightly offended.

"How old are you? Thirty? Forty?"

"Why?"

He grinned. "That guy that came in earlier, talked about this really hot piece he caught a couple nights ago. Said she was _wild_. You match the description. How do you feel about younger men?"

Wilson chuckled loudly before he noticed Cuddy giving him a look. He pretended to clear his throat, trying hard not to laugh any more.

"Thanks for the offer, but--"

"I can take you places you've never been. Unlike the gimp and Eyebrows over here--" he gestured to Wilson.

"Hey!" James yelled, offended.

"I can go _all night--_"

"I can go all night, too!" Wilson said defensively.

Now Lisa was laughing, she had thought James was too secure than to let himself get rattled by a teenager. But she figured at the end of the day, he was a man just like any other.

"Sometimes into the next day. Plus I've got tricks," Denver said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "And I heard you _really_ like tricks."

Lisa smiled and shook her head, "Sweetheart, you couldn't keep up." She turned to leave and motioned for Wilson to follow her.

"Call me if you change your mind," the kid called after her, watching her ass as she went. Cuddy waved without turning around.

Wilson leaned forward and said, "She doesn't like tricks; she likes skills. And the only way you get skills is from experience. Better luck next time, junior." He sauntered out, satisfied he had the last word. Nobody called him "Eyebrows" and got away with it.

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Lisa," Wilson apologized what felt like the millionth time.

"James, for the last time, it's fine," she wished he would stop saying he was sorry; it was beginning to irritate her.

They made their way through the park to House's favorite spot by the picnic tables, on the lookout for the duo. Lisa thought about how nice lunch would have been if House hadn't been his usual self and tried to ruin it. As it stood, she and Wilson were forced into eating lunch with House and Gladys. They were only joined by the terrible twosome for ten minutes at breakfast and their guests had managed to ruin Cuddy's favorite white blouse and steal Wilson's credit card. Who knew what fun awaited them at lunch.

"There they are," Wilson said stoically as they began to cut through the green grass between the sidewalk and the tables.

* * *

"Are you sure they'll be here?," Gladys asked from the other side of the picnic table. She had posed the question seventeen different ways, all annoying, since they had sat down. "Maybe they decided they would rather go to lunch somewhere private."

House exhaled sharply. He leaned back against the top of the table and answered without turning around to face her, "They'll be here."

"You're so sure, but how do you know?"

"Because I have Wilson's credit card."

"You stole your friend's card?"

"Borrowed."

"He could use another card, he could pay with a check, she could pay--"

"They'll come. Wilson'll be terrified I'd by porn and sneakers online with it. There's no way he won't come and get it."

"Hello Yogi, Boo-Boo. Is that a pic-ah-nic basket I see?"

House and Gladys turned to see Wilson and Cuddy standing behind them.

"Hello, Mr. Ranger, sir!," House said merrily, swinging his legs over the picnic bench.

"House, do you mind moving so I can sit by Lisa?"

"Sorry," he said unapologetically. "I want to face my date."

"Fine." Wilson started to round the table to sit next to his friend.

House quickly propped his legs up on his bench, blocking Wilson from sitting down. "No oncologists allowed on this side of the table. You'll have to sit by Gladdie over there."

"House," Wilson warned.

"It's fine. I'll sit by him," Cuddy said, wanting desperately to sit down. Walking on the grass and standing on uneven ground in heels was not an easy or comfortable task. House moved his legs and let Cuddy plop down beside him. Wilson reached across the table toward House, hand palm up, waiting.

House squinted at him and shrugged, then gave Wilson a high five and held his fist out, waiting for a bump. "What? No dap?"

"My card," Wilson replied. House smiled, pulled the plastic out of his jacket pocket and handed it to James. "Any other charges I need to know about?"

"I bought some porn and lottery tickets for Gladys."

"He bought me Rachel Ray Magazine and one lottery ticket."

"Rachel Ray, porn, practically the same thing."

"When did you steal the card anyway? When James went out to get my bag?," Cuddy asked, curious.

"I _borrowed_ it when James and Gladys were cleaning up the spill."

"But my wallet was right in front of me, I would have seen you."

"You forget, I'm smarter than the average bear," House said playfully. Wilson and Cuddy both smiled reluctantly as Gladys giggled. "Now, let's eat. The fossil and I are hungry. It took you two forever to get here."

Gladys had already laid the table cloth down, so she and Cuddy began set the table as Wilson took the basket and started unpacking it. House sat back and let the three of them pass things back and forth, readying the surface for lunch.

When the sandwiches were handed out (the veggie option reserved for Cuddy) and the wine was poured, Gladys was the first to speak, which didn't surprise House.

"Where did you two go after breakfast? We tried and tried to find you, but couldn't."

"Stakeouts are supposed to stay secretive, Glad Rags. You don't tell someone you are following them. I thought you said you had seen a Bond movie," House said, irritated.

Wilson raised his eyebrows, looking pleased with himself. "Couldn't find us, huh? Sabotage not going completely to plan?"

"We could have found you, but we stopped looking," House said before taking a large bite out of his sandwich.

"We went to see a movie," Cuddy said, answering the question.

"What movie did you see?" Gladys asked.

"We saw an old movie, actually one of the main characters reminds me of Lisa--" Wilson began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Taming of the Shrew? Touch of Evil? Psycho?" House suggested.

"The Philadelphia Story," Wilson finished.

"What a nice compliment," Gladys said sincerely. "I can think of nothing nicer than to be compared to Katharine Hepburn." House rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Greg?"

"Greg?" Cuddy smirked, raising an eyebrow, House smiled back at her.

"Do you think she's like that character?" Gladys continued, hoping he would take the bait and give the girl a compliment.

"Not really. Cuddy's got bigger airbags and a wider ass." Lisa shook her head and took another bite of her sandwich. Gladys frowned.

"We're going bowling after this. You have to come with us," Gladys said, trying to save her companion from making a further idiot of himself.

"As tempting as that offer is, I think we'll pass," Wilson replied.

"Please come, I insist!"

"Really, we appreciate it, but--" Cuddy began.

"You have no idea how boring it was driving around earlier looking for you," Gladys said, deciding to try a new approach. "If you don't come with us, then we'll just spend hours in the car following you. I'd like to actually have some fun today. After all, I paid enough for this date." Instead of looking in House's direction, she stared directly at Lisa.

House grinned, knowing that Cuddy would feel so guilty she would agree to come.

"Well, I guess we can play a game or two. If it fits into what James has planned," she said reluctantly.

"You want to go?" Wilson asked in disbelief.

"It could be fun," she said, smiling meekly at Gladys.

"Excellent! Isn't that great news, Greg!"

"Yeah, the best," he said, smirking at Wilson, secretly gloating. "Hey Cuddy, are you going to eat the rest of that sandwich?"

"No, you can have it. I think I've lost my appetite."

"Thanks, suddenly I'm famished," he reached over and grabbed the second half, grinning at her while he took a chunk out of it.

* * *

Soon after the foursome had finished lunch, they quickly polished off desert and packed up. Wilson took the basket with him, not trusting House to return it to the bakery. House watch Wilson and Cuddy trek up the sidewalk to their car before he and Gladys walked across the grass to the handicapped parking.

"That was genius," he said as the climbed into the Caddy, Gladys at the helm again. "The way you guilted her into coming. Brilliant."

"I'm a mother, guilting people into doing something is old hat." She started the car and began the drive to the bowling alley. "Now, let's talk about how charming you're going to be, how sweet, how cute--"

"I don't do sweet and cute."

"Well, you better do something because if I was her and I had to choose between a man who only made lewd comments about me and a man who doted on me and compared me to Katharine Hepburn, I wouldn't be choosing you."

"I don't want her to choose me, I just don't want her to choose him."

She shook her head. "Still can't say it. He stared at her almost all of lunch and still can't say that he likes her. You know, that's just sad."

House didn't say anything and was surprised that Gladys didn't either. In fact, the rest of their trip to the bowling alley was spent in complete silence.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part 2):** I know that's kind of a weird place to stop, but I wanted to post tonight and I am falling asleep. Hope it's still coherent! In case you're interested, the shirt the bakery kid was wearing is a real shirt (and one I think would be perfect for House).

**Author's Note (Part 3): **Okay, so I didn't add the next chapter before or even over the weekend. I had an all-day season four viewing party with my friend who just got into "House" and seeing the finale totally bummed me out. I was too sad to finish it. I plan to watch some comedy tomorrow and get it up before Wednesday, though. Hang in there with me. _Edited __July 20th._


	6. The Dude Abides

**Author's Note (Part One):** This chapter took me forever and I'm pretty sure it's the longest one yet. Who knew it took so long to write a bowling game. Hope the repetition doesn't drive you crazy, I tried my best to change up the words/phrasing, but there are only so many words for 'lane'. A mondo thanks to all of you who keep reviewing and reading and alerting. It's a great feeling to look at my in-box and see all the mail. Hope you like it!

Oh, House, Cuddy and their "thing" that gets "thingier" all belong to TPTB.

* * *

**The Dude Abides**

"I can't believe you said yes," Wilson groaned as he got in the warm car.

"I felt guilty. It's my fault she's having a bad time," Lisa said, shaking her head and fastening her seatbelt. "You should have stopped me. You should have said you already made plans."

"If I'd have said we had plans, they would've just followed us." Wilson paused, processing what Cuddy had said a moment earlier. "What do you mean it was your fault? How could it possibly your fault? It's not like you made House a pain in the ass."

"Gladys was visiting the hospital a couple of weeks ago and House came into see me. I don't remember what he said, but it made an impression on Ms. Witherspoon--"

"Witherspoon? As in the Witherspoon Wing?"

"Yes, she donated it in her husband's name. Anyway, she said that she thought he was a cutie--"

"A cutie?" Wilson chuckled.

"Her words, not mine. And I happened to mention that he was going to be one of the doctors up for auction at the fundraiser. I might have suggested that she come and bid on him."

"It was just a suggestion, that didn't mean she had to take it--"

"And at the event, I might have led her to believe that I had talked to House and that he hoped that she would bid on him... and that he got along well with older women. Especially ones who reminded him of his mother, which she did. She didn't think she could win him, since he seemed to have so many interested parties at the fundraiser, but I assured her that as long as she kept bidding, she would win," Lisa finished meekly; James laughed loudly.

"You cock-blocked him!" he grinned.

"I did not! I just made sure that--"

"You made sure that the little old lady won him instead of one of the hot twenty-somethings."

"Made sure that House went for the highest price he could."

Wilson shook his head, smiling, "You two sure bring it out in one another."

"Bring what out?"

"The green-eyed monster. You were jealous of all those other women, so you made sure he would be taken home by granny."

"That's ridiculous. I just wanted--"

"Yes, deny it," James laughed again. "That's exactly what he would do. It's almost sweet, the way you two sabotage each other."

"Oh, shut up," she said half-serious, half-playful.

* * *

When Lisa and James pulled up to the bowling alley, House and Gladys were already out of their car, waiting by the entrance; House tapping his cane impatiently. Wilson grabbed his bowling shoes out of his trunk as Cuddy crossed the parking lot to join the dynamic duo.

"Took you long enough," House complained. "It's sad. Even an old lady drives faster than you, Wilson."

"Yes, well, I knew it would bother you so I made sure we hit every red light on the way here," Wilson replied drolly, joining them, shoes in hand. Gladys tittered as the foursome made their way into the building.

"I'm going to claim the last lane," House declared, bypassing the desk, no intention of paying, no need for shoes since he was already wearing his.

"I take it I'm paying. Four at the last lane, two pairs of shoes, one game." Wilson took out forty dollars from his wallet and handed it Johnny, the ancient clerk. He had been working at the alley as long as Wilson could remember.

Johnny smiled at Wilson, opened the register and handed the good doctor his change. "What size, ladies?"

"Eight," Lisa said, handing him her heels.

"Six and a half," Gladys answered, surrendering her sneakers.

"You on a double date, Jimmy?" Johnny asked while searching for the correct sizes.

"In a matter of speaking, yes."

"Which one of these lovely ladies is your date?"

Wilson motioned to Cuddy, "Dr. Lisa Cuddy, this is Johnny. Johnny, this is my friend Lisa."

"I know that name. The Doc talks about you all the time."

"Really?" Cuddy said, smiling at Wilson.

"He doesn't mean me, he means House."

"Oh," she grumbled. "I shudder to think of the horrible things you've been told."

Johnny laughed and passed her a pair of blue size eights, "Not one bad word." Cuddy raised her eyebrows and looked at him skeptically. "Well, maybe a couple of bad words."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Johnny," Cuddy smiled.

"You too, Miss." Lisa began walking to their lane as the clerk brought up a sparkly red and tan pair from underneath the counter. "So, this little lady must be the Doc's date."

"Gladys Witherspoon," the old gal said, taking the shoes from Johnny. "Nice to meet you."

"Always a pleasure to meet such a lovely woman," he replied, smoothly. "You all have a good game, now."

"We will," Gladys said before setting off. Wilson began following her, but was stopped by Johnny.

"Hey, Jimmy--"

"Yeah?"

"You're not serious about dating the Doc's girl, are you?"

"According to him, they're just friends, if that."

"Yeah, but you and me, we know better."

Wilson nodded, grinning, "Yeah, we do." He waved good-bye to the clerk and headed toward the last lane to join the rest of his party.

* * *

"Granny beat you again," House said as Wilson finally reached lane 24.

"Someone had to pay," he answered, taking the seat by Cuddy and putting on his shoes.

"Thanks, James," Lisa replied, touching him on the shoulder gratefully. House narrowed his eyes at the display of affection, unpleased.

"I've already put everyone's name in the system. Age before beauty, Glad Rags you're up first."

"Excellent," she said, grabbing a pink eight-pound ball. Carefully she shuffled out on the wood, releasing it with a thud and a bounce. It crept down the lane, and slowly pushed two pins down when it reached the end.

"I thought you were the greatest bowler the world had ever seen?" House asked, somewhat irritated.

"Guess I'm a little out of practice." She picked up the pink ball from the return and threw it for a second time, this time taking down four pins. She clapped happily, "I just need to warm up."

"Six pins is okay, but you better warm up fast or I'm going to start doubting you have those serious skills you bragged about. Next up, Eyebrows," House said looking at Wilson.

"Eyebrows?" Wilson frowned, annoyed.

"That's you, you're up," House grinned while his friend scowled at him.

"Prepare to be spanked, House," Wilson said boisterously.

"Sorry, you'll have to get in line behind Cuddy... and Gladys."

Wilson grabbed his lime green bowling ball and approached the foul line. One swift move later, a single pin was remaining. Taking the ball from the return, Wilson effortlessly threw it, knocking down the last pin standing.

"Yeah! Go James!" Lisa cheered, giving him a high five.

"I wouldn't get too excited, he always makes a spare in the first frame... and follows it up with three frames of gutter balls." House picked up his personal flame-emblazoned ball. "Time to bring the fire."

"Are you 'Sweet Sauce'?" Gladys asked, squinting at the screen displaying the score.

"Cuddy's little pet name for me," he wagged his eyebrows in Lisa's direction as she rolled her eyes; Wilson and Gladys laughed. He limped up the approach, brought the ball up and hurled it-- straight into the gutter.

"Huh-huh-ho." House frowned as he heard Wilson's annoying faux-laugh.

"I didn't witness any fire, but I did see someone blowing smoke," Cuddy said smiling.

"Anyone can make a spare when they've got one pin left. It takes real skill to get a spare when you have ten pins left," House said, taking his ball from the return and proceeding to knock down all ten.

"You're turn, Partypants," he said vacating the runway, grinning at Cuddy.

"I hope I'm not too rusty, I haven't been bowling since med school," Lisa said, picking up her powder blue ball.

"Don't worry, I know you'll do great," Wilson coached from his seat. She approached the lane, ball at the ready. Both Wilson and House admired the way her jeans tightened around her butt as she slightly bent her knees and launched the object with surprising force.

"Yes!," she screamed as all the pins collapsed. Wilson clapped as she made her way back to her seat, exchanging high fives with him when she sat down.

"Good form," House complimented. "Especially when you bent your knees; gave me an excellent view of your ass. Are you wearing a pink thong today?"

Gladys got up and swatted him on the back of the head before taking her turn.

"You're not senile? You do know we're on the same team, right?" House asked with mock concern.

"You were being an idiot," Gladys answered as she tossed her ball down the lane, knocking over five pins.

"I think the grammar in that last sentence was incorrect," Wilson said.

"Really? Sounded right to me," she said picking up her ball.

"Yes, the use of the past tense, as if the condition had ended." Cuddy laughed and Wilson joined her.

Gladys flung the ball down the hardwood and watched as the remaining pins fell.

"That's what I'm talking about! Keep getting spares and you can smack me around all you want," House said, giving her five.

Wilson took his turn, and true to House's word, sent his ball into the ditch twice.

"You'll get it next time," Cuddy reassured him.

"I told you, it's going to be gutter balls for two more frames, better get used to the idea of losing!" House gibed as his neared the ball return.

"And even though I didn't knock down a single pin, we're still beating you," Wilson said smugly.

"Not for long," he said sending the ball swirling down the lane, taking down seven pins with the first throw and the last three with the second.

"Now who's losing?" House called out victoriously.

"I wouldn't celebrate too loudly, I haven't had my turn yet," Cuddy said picking up her ball.

"I'm not worried," House answered confidently.

"Lisa's the only one who's gotten a strike," Wilson reminded him.

"First frame luck, it won't happen again." As House replied, Cuddy released her ball, flattening the pins.

"What was that?" Cuddy asked, satisfied.

"A double! Does my date know how to bowl or what?" Wilson said, happy to be winning a game for once-- when he and House went bowling he always managed to lose.

House cringed slightly at Wilson's use of the word 'date', but camouflaged his reaction before anyone but Gladys noticed. "It's so on," House said to Cuddy as she passed him on her way to sit down.

"Bring it," she challenged.

"Oh, I'll bring it. Don't worry," Gladys said tossing the ball down the lane. The trio stared at her quizzically. "What? My granddaughter loves that cheerleading movie... and that Cliff is a cutie."

House laughed as his partner finished her turn, adding eight to her score. Wilson continued his streak of bad luck and added zero points for the second time that evening, keeping his score eleven.

"One more frame of gutter balls left," House smirked. He continued his spare streak by toppling seven pins with his first ball and three with his second.

"It doesn't matter how many strikes you throw, Cuddy. You've got Wilson on your team, there's no way you can win. I haven't lost a game to him yet."

"We'll see about that," she said confidently, picking up the blue ball, flinging it down the lane and scoring her third strike in a row. Wilson cheered, Gladys clapped and House looked on dumb-founded.

"Who taught you how to bowl? The Jesus?" House asked, trying to hide how impressed he was.

"And Liam," she laughed. House couldn't believe that Cuddy got the reference and smiled widely at the thought of her watching 'The Big Lebowski'. "Bowling's how my friends and I studied in med school. We'd go to the alley, rent a lane and quiz each other. You got the answer right, you got your turn; You missed it, you skipped your turn. I'm smart, so I almost always got to bowl."

* * *

Several frames later, the scores were still close. Cuddy was in the lead, House trailing by eleven points, and Gladys was beating Wilson by seven. As long as Wilson choked, as he was known to do, and Cuddy bowled below eight points, then the rag-tag duo of Gladys and House could win.

"Don't let me down, Glad-Rags, or I might have to send you out to sea. I cannot lose to the worst bowler of all-time."

Gladys grabbed the pink ball, strode up to the foul line and released it, knocking down nine pens.

"Still going to put me on an ice floe?" she jokingly asked House.

"Depends on if you make this spare or not."

As her second throw collided with the last pin standing, Gladys cheered for herself and House gave her two thumbs up. She finished the frame by tossing her ball in the ditch.

"113, not a bad score for such and old broad," House said, giving her dap. "Wilson, time to throw your next gutter ball."

"Ignore him, James," Cuddy said. "He's just trying to psych you out."

"I know and it's not going to work," Wilson replied, picked up his ball and sent it down the lane to knock over six pins, leaving the big four.

"Don't feel bad," House said in a soothing voice, "I don't even think Ernie McCracken could make that shot."

Wilson dried his hands over the air blower waiting for his green ball to pop up. When it did he swiped it, heaved it, and, miraculously scored a spare.

"Way to go, James!" Cuddy yelled as Gladys clapped loudly.

"Impossible," House mumbled to himself.

"Yes, I am _that_ good," Wilson bragged, picking up the ball for his last throw. Unfortunately his luck had run out and his final ball rolled straight into the gutter, leaving him with a final score of 106.

"Yes, you're so good you can find the ditch with your eyes closed," House smirked. "Gladys is still beating you by seven points."

"Don't let me down, Sweet Sauce, or I might have to make you walk home," she said as House pitched his ball down the hardwood, taking out eight pins.

House glanced in Gladys' direction, "Am I walking?"

"Depends on if we win," she smiled back. His next toss knocked down the remaining two pins, earning him a spare and an extra turn.

"Uh-oh! What-what!" House boasted, celebrating his good fortune. He hurled his ball and watched it as it curved slightly and hit all ten.

He limped back top seat seat with a bounce in his step. "154. We're winning by fifteen! Good luck beating that!"

Cuddy took her powder blue ball from the return and smiled back at House over her shoulder, "Who needs luck when you've got skill?" She launched the ball down the lane and knocked down every pin.

"That's what I'm talking about!" she grinned "So, have we won yet?"

"No, you're still losing," House smiled back.

"Only momentarily." She flung the ball, pushing every pin to the floor. "Another double!"

"It wasn't that impressive the first time," House kidded.

"We've won now, right?" Wilson asked excitedly.

"I don't know, Partypants will have to finish her turn first."

Cuddy rubbed her hands together and stretched her fingers. She lifted her ball and took two small steps before heaving it. Lisa watched as the ball crashed into the pins, giving her her sixth strike of the night.

"Yes!" she screamed, jumping up and down in triumph. Wilson rushed out of his seat to give her a hug and a two-handed high five.

"That was incredible! I've never seen anyone do that before," James said, amazed.

"Very impressive!" Gladys said, shaking her opponents' hands. "Great game."

"Are you sad you lost?" Cuddy asked House, pouting out her bottom lip.

"Not at all," he replied. "I loved your victory celebration. Do you mind doing it again, but this time jump up and down a little slower... I don't want to miss a single bounce," he finished, widening his eyes for comic effect. Cuddy smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Bend down," Gladys said while taking off her bowling shoes.

"Why?" House asked raising an eyebrow.

"So I can smack the back of your head. You're too tall, I can't reach from here."

He opened his mouth to retort, but Wilson spoke before he could say anything. "Thanks for inviting us. We had a great time."

House turned around to find that Cuddy had already set off to the counter to retrieve her shoes.

"Now, what are we doing for dinner?" Gladys asked, hoping to stop the couple from sharing a romantic meal.

"I'm not sure what House has planned for the two of you, but I had to cancel our dinner reservation after Lisa's outfit was ruined this morning--"

"I am so sorry about that," Gladys apologized.

"You two can join us for pizza," House offered. "Of course, you'll have to pay--"

"No need. I've decided I'll just cook for Lisa instead of taking her out."

"And where will you be doing this cooking?" House demanded.

"Her place probably," Wilson smiled. "Thanks again for the bowling invite. I really did have a great time. See you later, House. Gladys, it's been a pleasure."

House watched as Wilson made his way to the counter and a waiting Cuddy. When he reached her, they both turned to wave at House and Gladys before leaving the bowling alley.

"Shouldn't you be hobbling after them trying to keep them from being alone?" Gladys asked as she stood up, bowling shoes in hand.

"We know where they're going; there's no need to rush."

"He could be lying," she observed as they headed toward Johnny.

"No, he wanted me to know where they were going. That was the whole reason he told me."

"You're just going to give up?" she said flabbergasted.

He grinned at her, "Never."

"What are we going to do next?"

"Grab a pizza, some drinks, stake out Cuddy's house and think of a new plan."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **Next time, dinner, scheming and a freaked-out House!


	7. All Wet

**Author's Note (Part One): **I couldn't wait to update this story, so I stopped writing the next chapter in my other one to do this one instead. I wanted to get to the good stuff. Thanks for all the reviews, reads and alerts. As always you guys are the most awesome readers in the world! I hope it makes you happy! House, Cuddy and Wilson belong to some other people; Gladys belongs to me (and in my head is Fionnula Flanagan without the Irish accent).

* * *

**All Wet**

"So, what exactly are you making?" Lisa asked excitedly as she handed James a bunch of fresh parsley.

"It's a surprise. But trust me, you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will. Those pancakes you make are fabulous."

"Wait. How do you know what my pancakes taste like?" he questioned while grabbing a handful of oyster mushrooms and shoving them in a plastic bag. "Were you the person who stole them out of the Oncology Lounge a few months ago?"

"Of course not, I would never steal someone else's food," she defended, watching Wilson take a small carton of cremini mushrooms.

"Then how did you taste them? Because I don't remember ever cooking them for you," he said with a smile, picking up some button mushrooms, the last variety on his mental checklist.

"A little while ago House came in my office to ask permission to do some crazy medical procedure and he eating them from a Tupperware container. I asked him where he got them and he said he had confiscated them from the refrigerator in the Oncology Lounge. I was suspicious so I took the box from him and saw your name written on it. I gave him his permission and sent him on his way, planning to return your food to you... but they were warm and they smelled so good and I hadn't eaten that day, so I thought I would just eat one to keep me from starving. So I did. I ate one... and another one... and another one until there were no more left. I was going to tell you, but I felt pretty guilty about it. Sorry," she smiled meekly.

"I take it, you liked them?"

Cuddy grinned, "They were the best pancakes I've ever had in my life... and I had them without syrup. I can only imagine how good they would be right out of the pan."

"Sometime I'll make you a batch," he smiled as they strolled over to get a tub of walnuts. They wandered up the pasta aisle so Wilson could pluck a couple bags of fresh spaghetti. "We need some parmesan cheese and white wine, then I think we can pay and head to your place."

"My place?" she asked, taken aback.

"Is that not okay? I mean, we can go to my apartment if you'd rather."

"It's just... my kitchen is a mess. I thought I would try some crazy recipe I saw on Food Network and completely demolished it. With the fundraiser and today, I haven't had time to clean it."

"Then we'll pay and go to my place," James said nonchalantly.

"Is that going to be okay? I won't be awkward or anything since--"

"It'll be fine. I've had friends over since... It'll be fine."

"If you're sure."

"I am."

"Great. I'll grab the cheese, you can get the wine and I'll meet you up front by the registers."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Wilson asked jokingly.

"I'm really hungry; I guess bowling works up an appetite," she smiled as they split up, heading off to different parts of the store.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure that he wouldn't lie to you?" Gladys questioned as she picked up a second slice from the box on the dashboard and took a bite.

"For the last time, he wanted me to know," House said, mouth full of supreme pizza.

"It's just we've been waiting here long enough for us to order pizza and have it delivered. How long does a trip to the grocery store really take? Maybe they decided to go to a restaurant instead."

"Wilson wants to cook for her because he thinks he's a great chef. He probably thinks that if he makes dinner he'll get laid or something," House said, taking a swig of beer.

"Must be really good food if he thinks it will get her to sleep with him," she said, pausing for another bite.

House looked at the clock and realized that Gladys was right-- they had been waiting for almost two hours. Cuddy and Wilson should have shown up thirty minutes ago, if not earlier.

"It's been two hours," House said.

"That's what I have been saying!" Gladys said, exasperated. "It doesn't take that long for anyone to go to the grocery store if they're shopping for dinner."

"If they haven't arrived by the time we've finished eating, then we'll go to his apartment."

"By that time they could be finished with dinner and on to dessert," she said knowingly.

"He's got to cook the food before they can eat it. Besides, Fratelli's Pizza waits for no man," he said stuffing half a slice into his mouth.

* * *

"Here," Lisa said taking one of the bags from James' arms. "I'll take this one so you can open the door."

"Thanks," he said, pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door. Cuddy pushed it open, stepping through the entrance, followed closely by Wilson. Suddenly, out of nowhere, came a flood of water. Cuddy screamed, dropping her bag in surprise.

"Oww!" Wilson shouted as a plastic bucket careened into the side of his face.

"Are you okay?" Lisa asked, turning around to face James.

"House," Wilson mumbled angrily under his breath while massaging his sore jaw.

"Let me look at it," she said, pulling his hand away from his face. She gingerly touched his cheek and he grimaced as she did. "Looks like you're going to have a nice bump to go along with the purple bruise that's forming. You should put something on it."

Wilson walked past Cuddy and headed straight into the kitchen. He placed his wet bag on the counter, opened up the freezer, grabbed a bag of frozen peas and, wincing, pressed it to his cheek. Cuddy moved the pail and shut the door before entering the kitchen a putting her bag beside his.

"I think that water had sugar in it," she said, frowning. "I'm sticky."

Cuddy was soaked through; her hair clung to the side of her face, her shirt plastered to her form. Wilson was slightly less wet, but still looked pathetic, holding the bag of peas to his darkening cheek. They stood in the kitchen for a second, staring at each other before bursting into the laughter.

"We're quite a pair," Cuddy smiled, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry," he said shaking his. "I'm going to kill House the next time I see him."

"Not if I kill him first," she grinned.

"Do you want to take a shower? I can wash your clothes while we eat dinner. I've still got a pair of Amber's sweats. You can wear those... if it's not too weird."

"Won't it be weird for you?"

"Maybe a little, but I'll be okay."

"What about you? You got caught in the downpour too."

"I can take my shower after you take yours."

"No, you should go first. I can clean up the foyer while I'm waiting."

"I can clean up while you--"

"James, it makes more sense for you to go first since you have to cook," she said logically. "And I can clean up House's mess while I'm waiting. It's not a big deal."

"I don't want you to have to mop up my--"

"Just point me in the direction of the rags."

"If you're sure--"

"Get in the shower," she smiled.

"Fine, you win," he said, raising his hands in defeat. "Rags are under the kitchen sink. I'll only be a minute."

Wilson took off down the hall, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, some jeans, a t-shirt and a new button-up from his room before disappearing in the bathroom. Cuddy found the rags, swiped a stack of them, pulled down House's bucket to put all the damp cloths in and began drying the floor.

* * *

"What did I tell you?" Gladys gloated. "I knew he was lying. I told you he didn't want you to know where they go were going. Wonder what they're doing up there. I sure hope your inability to listen to me didn't give him enough time to close the deal--"

"Yes, yes," House interrupted, annoyed. "You were right. Now will you please shut up so I can think."

"What if they're up there cuddling on the couch or kissing or, even worse, discussing her dreams, hopes and aspirations... that's a real panty peeler." When she noticed House was staring at her she added, "What?"

"Deja-vu," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"That's what my grandson says," Gladys said, feeling the need to further explain herself.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is." House opened the car door and got out.

"Are we going somewhere?" Gladys asked, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"I am," House reached in the car and grabbed his cane. "You are going to stay here."

"I don't want to just sit in the car while you go and have fun."

"I need you to stay here and keep watch in case they leave while I'm in the building."

"Wouldn't you see them pass you?"

"Not if they took the stairs," he said shutting the door.

Gladys rolled down the passenger-side window, "Why do you get to go in? Why can't I?"

House turned, tiring of Gladys and her twenty questions, "I told you I need you to stay here in case--"

"No, why can't you stay here while I go in?"

"Because you're not as sneaky as I am."

"I can be sneaky. It's not that hard--"

"Gladdie, you are staying here," House said forcefully. "I am going in. When I'm done, I'll come back out. Do not come in for any reason. You can call me if you see something."

"Fine, but the next time you want me to be devious, count me out. I'm not spilling anything on anyone or guilting anyone into doing anything until you can admit that you like the girl," Gladys answered.

"I don't like her," House called to her, over his shoulder, while crossing the street.

"Keep telling yourself that!," the old lady shouted back at him. House smiled to himself as he slipped in the apartment building behind an elderly tenant.

* * *

Wilson listened to the repetitious hum of the washing machine and the sound of rushing water as he poured the contents of the pot he had just pulled off the stove into the colander in the sink. He rinsed the noodles briefly and shook the strainer, freeing the pasta of excess water before returning it to the pot. James added the parsley pesto he made (thanks to the aid of his trusty food processor) to the pot, coating the spaghetti with it. Opening the oven, he took out the roasted mushrooms and threw them into the pan, making sure to incorporate them well. As he was transferring the pasta in a serving bowl he noticed the water had stopped; Lisa was done with her shower. He poured two glasses of white wine and placed the bowl on the already set table, smiling to himself about the meal he had created. Before he could grab the salad from the fridge, there was a knock at the door.

Wilson made his way to the peep hole and saw House's eye staring back at him.

"I know you're in there. I can smell the food," House said, banging his cane on the door three more times. James sighed and resigned himself to opening the door.

"Took you long enough," House complained, pushing past Wilson, stepping into the apartment.

"Please, come in," Wilson said.

"So, what are your plans after dinner?" House asked, examining the dinner table.

"I assume you mean activities that happen outside of the bedroom?" Wilson grinned.

"I don't need to hear about you crying yourself to sleep at night, thanks," House retorted.

"After dinner, we're going for drinks at Liam's Pub. It's Sink or Swim Karaoke Night."

"No good. You know how I hate karaoke."

"Yes, I do. That's why we're going."

"Why do you want to do karaoke? You have to sit there and suffer through a hundred idiots, all who think they can sing 'Satisfaction' better than Mick Jagger. Plus, you can't sing."

"Making fun of those people is what makes karaoke enjoyable. Besides, I have a great voice."

"I've heard you sing. You do not have a great voice. In fact, I would liken your singing voice to Jennifer Lopez but without the digital enhancement and the ass to distract you."

"Did you just insult Jennifer Lopez?" Wilson said, faking scandalization. "I didn't think that--"

Wilson was interrupted by Cuddy who had entered the room, dressed in Amber's sweats, towel over her head, covering her face while she dried her hair. "Thanks for the shower. It's just what I needed after the hard work--"

House looked from Wilson to Cuddy and back, eyes wide in terror, anger bubbling up in his chest, fighting the urge to punch Wilson in the face.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I'm going to stop here for now, but I'm already working on the next chapter, so it shouldn't be long. Keep in mind, there will be karaoke, so things aren't going to resolve themselves too soon! And this recipe really exists, I stole it from "Top Chef."


	8. Leverage

**Author's Note (Part One):** Hello my dear readers! Thanks so much for all the love you're sending my way; it is much appreciated! This chapter's a little shorter than usual-- but no worries because I'm sure the next one will be ridiculously long again. Hope you like it! Again, these characters aren't mine, they belong to David, Katie, TPTB and Paul Attanasio (who I love because he used to write for "H:LOTS").

* * *

**Leverage**

"It's not what you think," Wilson said quietly and quickly, hoping House wouldn't get upset. After all, he only wanted to make House jealous to help his friend admit that he had more than feelings of contempt and friendship for their boss.

Unfortunately, House was too angry to even hear what Wilson was saying. All he could see was Cuddy, fresh from a shower and Wilson, standing beside him with damp hair. He couldn't stop his mind from running through all the possibilities; showering together, shower after sex, sex in the shower.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked him furiously, breaking him out of his anger-induced haze.

"What kind of hard work? Why are you both wet?" House demanded, ignoring Cuddy's question.

"House, calm down--" Wilson began, the suggestion only made him more pissed off.

"Took a shower?" House fumed, ignoring Wilson, looking directly at Cuddy.

She let the towel fall around her neck and put her hands on her hips, "Yes, although why it is any concern--"

"You aren't wearing a bra!" he yelled, shocked. Wilson involuntarily glanced over at Lisa, confirming House's revelation; he had put the ball of her clothes in the washer without paying them much attention.

Cuddy quickly crossed her arms over her chest, "All my clothes--"

"Yes, where are _your_ clothes? In Wilson's bedroom?" House interrogated.

"_Really _not what you think," Wilson whispered loudly in House's direction.

"Whose clothes are those?" House spat, pointing to her outfit with his cane. "Amber's? Be careful, Cuddy, next thing you'll know he'll be asking you to straighten you hair, dye it blonde, wear conservative clothes and before you know it you'll be falling off the top of a belltower!"

"Why are you yelling? What do you have to be mad about?" Cuddy asked, incensed.

"I'm not mad!" House bellowed, his face turing pink. "You and Wilson can have as much sex as you want!"

"House," Wilson said calmly, "There's no need to get upset. Lisa and I--"

"Yes, we can!" she shouted over James. "I don't know why it's your business anyway!"

"You're right! It's not! You two can be idiots if you want!" House screamed and he turned to leave. James grabbed his arm, hoping to stop him and clarify.

House yanked his arm out of Wilson's grasp and growled quietly so only his best friend could hear, "This means war."

House turned the knob and flung the door open, limping as fast as he could. He hadn't gotten three steps out of the apartment before he heard Cuddy yell at him, "Hey! Don't forget your damn bucket!"

The words registered and he slowly turned around, just in time to see the pail fly past his head, barely missing him.

* * *

Gladys had dozed off waiting for House and was quietly snoring when the sound of shutting door woke her.

"It's only been fifteen minutes and you're already sleeping on the job," House said as he fastened his seatbelt.

"I had three pieces of pizza, I was in the mood for a little nap," she said, yawning. "That was fast. What's the plan, partner?"

"Drive to the nearest bar. I need a drink."

"You've got three beers left."

"I need something a little stronger."

"Don't we need to stay here until they come out?" Gladys asked, suspiciously.

"Just drive," he said, quickly becoming annoyed.

"What happened? Couldn't have been good if you need a strong drink."

"Can you shut up and drive? Or am I going to have to call a cab?"

"You're too cheap to call a cab," she crossed her arms. "Now, what happened?"

"I made an ass out of myself." House grumbled.

"That goes without saying, but that doesn't give me any details. I need to know what happened so I can know if it can be fixed."

"Knocked on the door, Wilson let me in, Cuddy came out of the shower, Wilson had wet hair, I yelled at them, Cuddy yelled at me, I left, Cuddy threw the bucket at my head. I forgot about the bucket."

"How could you for--"

"I just did," House broke in. "They were wet, I didn't know if was the bucket--"

"Of course it was the bucket! What did you think? That they took a shower together?"

"I forgot about the damn bucket. I jumped to conclusions. And yes, I feel like an idiot, so I'm really not in the mood for any lectures."

"I can't believe you forgot about the bucket. That said, I understand why you lost your mind."

"I didn't lose my mind--"

"Hey, I'm not the one who's in denial; I know you like the girl. You saw that she and your best friend were freshly out of the shower, your brain went straight to the worst case scenario and skipped all the logical thinking. Love is not a rational--"

"Love has nothing to do with it," House said moodily.

"Of course it doesn't. I'm sure it doesn't bother you at all that they're alone having a romantic dinner right now, and that we have no idea what they're doing next--"

"They're going to Sink or Swim Karaoke Night," he interrupted.

"What's that?"

"You completely suck, they throw water on you; you don't suck, you get a free drink."

"It sounds like fun."

"It's sounds like bleeding ears and the William Hung Orchestra."

"Who?"

"Never mind. Can we leave now? Or am I going to have to drive? You might be a little old lady, but I'm not above dragging you from the car and hijacking it if you keep refusing me my scotch."

"Fine, but then we go to karaoke night. Give you a chance to fix things."

"I'll do whatever you want if you put the car in drive and take me to the nearest bar." Gladys did as requested, heading down to block toward the closest scotch.

* * *

Lisa slammed the door behind her, causing the towel to fall off her shoulders. She ran her hands over her face, took a deep breath and shook her head. James watched her as she rested her head against the door and looked up at the ceiling.

He felt bad that he hadn't made the situation clear to House, but he had been distracted. Wilson gave Cuddy Amber's sweats without a second thought, but seeing her in them surprised him. He couldn't help but think of her, the way she wore them, the way she was with him, how much he missed her. Cuddy let out an angry little noise and Wilson smiled, remembering something Amber had said months earlier . _'House really needs to stop insulting her and pissing her off and find some other way to show her he likes her. You should suggest flowers.' _Reluctantly pushing all thoughts of Amber aside, he picked up the wine glasses and handed Cuddy hers.

"House really knows how to ruin an evening," Wilson said with a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry for the outburst. He can really get to me."

"Please, don't apologize. I understand completely."

"Dinner smells great," she said, making her way to the table and sitting.

"One of my specialties. Pasta with mushrooms and parsley pesto," he replied, taking his seat. "Dig in."

They sat in awkward silence for minutes, eating salad, then serving and devouring the pasta. Lisa was helping herself to seconds when spoke, "I'm sorry... for what I said about us having sex... I didn't mean... I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable... I was just angry with House and it kind of just... I don't want you to think that I want to... Not that I wouldn't want to... Not that you're not great... It's just that we're friends and--"

"Lisa, relax," James grinned. "You got caught up in the moment. It's not like I expect us to run into the bedroom and have sex just because you said it to House."

"I don't want you to think--"

"It's fine. Really," he said with understanding.

"I need a drink. You don't have any vodka around here, so you?"

"No," he laughed. "But, if you're up for it, I thought we might go to this bar for karaoke night after dinner."

"Karaoke?" she raised her eyebrows.

"We don't have to if you don't want to."

"If they serve dirty martinis and cosmos, I'm in. But I can't promise that I won't make a fool of myself."

"That's what you do on karaoke night; you get drunk and make a fool of yourself-- usually in that order."

She chuckled, then took another bit of her pasta. They talked the rest of dinner, making a long and detailed list of House's most asinine pranks and non-medical missteps. The comfort between them returned, embarrassment forgotten.

* * *

"One scotch and a seltzer water for the crypt keeper," House requested of the bartender.

"I've decided what I want you to do."

"Unless it's drink this scotch, they you're shit out of luck," House said, taking a swig out of the glass just placed in front of him.

"I want you to sing-- To her."

"What on earth could make you think that I would ever--"

"You said you would do whatever I wanted if I drove you to the nearest bar. I want you to sing to her. "

"Should've gotten it in writing."

"That's not fair. I brought you to the bar; now you've got to do what I want."

"I don't do karaoke. And I don't sing. Besides, we're already at the bar. If you really wanted me to do something you should have asked me before we got here. Now you have no leverage."

"Did I tell you I have a nephew who is a state trooper?"

"Was there a reason to tell me? I can't imagine one."

"You have a motorcycle, right?"

"Why, you want to go for a spin?"

"Can you drive a motorcycle with your leg?"

"I'm not a invalid," he replied, frowning.

"But you have to have a motorcycle license," she said, sipping her seltzer..

"What's your point?"

"Do you have a motorcycle license?" House studied her as she idly stirred her drink with her straw. "It would be a shame if you got caught driving without a proper license."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"I would never!" she said, faking outrage. "But it does make good leverage, don't you think?"

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **Does House have a motorcycle license? Does anyone know? I do remember when Tritter arrested him he was charged with driving without a license, so it's possible. I just can't see House waiting in line at the DMV. Next time, karaoke! There's a bar near me that has Sink or Swim Karaoke, but they give you a free drink whether you get the bucket of water or not. It's amazing to see what people will do for a free drink... and no I've never done it. Too much of a chicken, I guess... that and I don't drink much.


	9. Huggybear and Humiliation

**Author's Note (Part One):** You guys are the best! All those reads, reviews and alerts made me finish this chapter even though work is crazy this week! Thanks for saying all the nice stuff!! The italics are mostly for singing (though some are still used for emphasis). When it gets to the karaoke part, just imagine that the dialogue before/after the lyrics is happening simultaneously. I had no idea how I could format it (if it were in a normal document, I would create two columns), so I hope the desired effect will still be achieved. This chapter is ridiculously long-- I hope you don't fall asleep reading it. Please enjoy! The characters of 'House' are owned by some really rich people-- I hope I don't offend them with my silly fanfiction.

* * *

**Huggybear and Humiliation**

"So, what do you plan on singing?" James asked Lisa.

"I don't know. Something silly probably. I'm not going to try to be Aretha Franklin, I don't have the range for it. But I need my drink before I consider anything."

"Jack and coke and a dirty martini," Wilson said to the passing waitress.

"Coming," she replied, continuing to wind her way around the tables toward the bar at the back.

"What about you? Do you have something planned or are you just going to wing it?"

"I definitely have a plan, but it's a secret."

"You're not going to tell me?" she smiled.

"Nope. It's a surprise."

"Why do they call it Sink or Swim Karaoke?"

"If you stink, you sink and if you're decent, you swim. The audience is the jury, the judges are the emcee and the karaoke DJ."

"If you sink they kick you offstage?" The waitress dropped off their drinks and Wilson handed her his credit card.

"Be right back," she called to them, already scurrying towards to the bar.

"Yes... and throw a bucket of water on you." James smiled, Lisa groaned. "Do you want me to take you home. I can understand if the idea of getting soaked doesn't appeal to you."

"No, we might as well stay. I've been getting things dumped on me all day; I wouldn't want to interrupt the streak," she took a long sip out of her glass. "But I will probably need a second martini."

"On the upside, if you don't completely suck, then you swim and they give you a free drink. Of course by then you've probably already had a few and really don't need another."

"At least House won't be here to witness my utter humiliation."

"I imagine he'll probably show up sometime."

Cuddy knocked on the table three times in rapid succession. "Don't say that, you'll jinx us! Besides, how would he even know where we are?"

"Don't get mad, but I kind of told him before you two had your fight."

"Wilson!" she admonished him.

"He doesn't like karaoke. I thought if I told him he would stop following us around."

"Good," Lisa said relieved.

"But--"

"There's a but?," she said, a worried crease forming between her eyebrows.

"After what happened in the apartment... I imagine he'll change his mind and suffer through a night of karaoke."

"You said he hates karaoke--"

"He does," Wilson said, slowly nodding his head.

"Then why would he bother?" she asked.

James laughed, but stopped when he saw her confused face. "Oh... you're really asking why."

"What am I missing?"

"He's not going to able to leave us alone, not after what happened in the apartment; he left himself vulnerable." She stared at him blankly, so he continued. "Lisa, why do you think he was so angry? You said yourself he had no reason to be upset; he was the one causing us problems. Why do you think he was following us around all day, wrecking havoc?"

"He's paranoid, he doesn't want us forming a unit and leaving him alone."

James smiled, "He is paranoid and I agree he doesn't want us together, but I don't think that it has anything to do with being left out. I think it has everything to do with--"

"So, what are we talking about?" House interrupted, pulling up a chair.

"Perfect timing, as always," Wilson mumbled.

Cuddy crossed her arms, "Sorry, our table for two has already reached maximum capacity."

"I see your point," House stood up and, though giving the impression he was leaving, began sliding a nearby two-top toward Cuddy and Wilson's table.

"Leave," Cuddy said firmly. "You're not welcome."

"Oh, dear, are we interrupting something?" Gladys asked, concerned. House smiled, knowing that Cuddy wouldn't be able to risk offending such a generous benefactor.

"Yes," Cuddy said quickly, much to Wilson and House's surprise. "I'm sorry Mrs. Witherspoon, but Dr. Wilson and I want to enjoy the final hours of our date unchaperoned. I'm sure you can understand."

Gladys put on her most pitiful face, "If you feel that we might ruin the rest of your evening--"

"No, I don't feel like you'll ruin our evening--"

"Oh good!" the old lady interrupted. "I'm glad because I so enjoy spending time with you and Dr. Wilson."

"And I've enjoyed spending time with you, but I'd like to spend the rest of the night with my date._ Alone_."

"Of course," Gladys said meekly, nodding her head. "Come on, Greg. Let's go sit in the booth against the wall." She shuffled off toward the table she pointed out. House lagged behind, guilt his one last desperate attempt to worm his way into his friends' date.

"Cuddy, that's _Gladys Witherspoon_. Do you realize how much money you could lose the hospital by alienating her?"

"She'll be fine. She's still on her date with you, so I think she'll be able to cope."

He opened his mouth, intending to speak, but Wilson broke in. "House, why don't you come with me to the DJ and pick out a song to sing?"

House could tell from the warning look Wilson was giving him that it would not be a good idea to push Cuddy. Heeding his friend's silent advice, he began limping toward the side of the stage where the karaoke DJ was stationed.

"Thank you," Cuddy said gratefully.

"I'll be back in a minute." Wilson smiled at her then turned to follow House.

* * *

When Wilson arrived at the small bar that had been converted into karaoke headquarters, House was absentmindedly flipping through a book of song selections.

"You should totally sing 'Oops, I Did it Again.'"

Wilson smiled, "But what will you sing?"

"I've always been a bigger fan of Christina. I was thinking 'Dirrty," he wagged his eyebrows for extra comic effect; Wilson laughed.

"I think I'll stick with my first choice," Wilson said, flipping through a thick songbook searching for his chosen song.

"Which is?"

"After what happened earlier... you should consider going home."

"Are you trying to get rid of me? Afraid of a little competition?"

Wilson raised an eyebrow, "What exactly are we competing for?"

"Best karaoke singer, of course."

"Of course." Wilson looked up, "House, go home. You've caused enough trouble for one day. Call it a night."

"I'd love to, but I promised Gladys I'd sing. I wouldn't want to disappoint one of the hospital's biggest donors."

"Fine," he said, raising his hands, resigning himself to House's constant presence. "Just leave us alone, that's all I ask. Lisa is pretty upset; I wouldn't want you making things worse."

"Worried I might ruin your chances to score?"

James shook his head, "Trying to save you from yourself." He shut the book he was looking at. "Number 1528," Wilson said to the DJ.

"Name?" the DJ asked, not looking up.

"Dr. Wilson."

"You're up after Huggybear. Good luck," the DJ said, scribbling down the name and request.

He patted House on the back, "Have a few drinks, laugh with Gladys, keep out of trouble... for your own sake." Wilson turned and made his way back to the table for two. House watched Wilson take his seat, Cuddy smiling at him as he sat. House momentarily considered listening to his friend's advice. He watched Wilson mime a story for her, she laughed in return.

"Hey, what song did my friend choose?," House asked the DJ. "I want to make sure we don't pick the same one."

"Danke Shoen," he replied with a snicker.

"What's your name?"

"Simon."

House pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "Simon, how would you like to make fifty-three dollars and twenty-six cents?"

Simon eyed him suspiciously, "What would I have to do?"

House grinned and put the money on the bar in front of him, "Nothing illegal."

* * *

When House finally made his way over to the booth against the wall there was a scotch on the table waiting for him. Gladys was on her second beer, sipping the amber liquid out of the glass with a straw.

"Slow down there, I don't want any angry grandkids coming to visit me because their Nana got arrested for driving under the influence."

"Did you choose your song?" she asked, remarkably sober.

"You could say that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this? What are you planning?"

"Why are you assuming that I'm planning something?"

"You've been planning things all day," she appraised him as he drank his scotch. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," House smiled innocently. "Now, stop talking. We wouldn't want to miss any of the entertainment."

* * *

A man calling himself Huggybear was onstage doing as passable impression of 'It's a Man's, Man's, Man's World.' James left Lisa and made his way up to the stage. She watched Wilson talk to the DJ briefly as the singer onstage finished his song.

"Isn't this exciting?" House said from behind, startling her. She shot him an unamused look as he sat in Wilson's empty seat.

"Is there a reason why you're bothering me?"

"Needed a closer seat. I didn't want to miss anything."

"What about your date? Won't she miss you?"

"She fell asleep fifteen minutes ago," he nodded toward the booth. Cuddy glanced over to see Gladys' head tilted back, resting against the booth's cushioning headrest, mouth wide open.

"I would have stayed, but her snores were blocking out everything but the bassline." Cuddy laughed involuntarily, stopping herself when she remembered how angry she was with House.

"When Wilson's done you have to go back to your table, snoring or no snoring."

"Fine," he pouted.

* * *

"Let's hear it for Huggybear," the emcee called. Most of the crowd applauded, except a rowdy group of college guys who booed loudly from the corner. "I say he's swimming, how about you Simon?"

"Swimming," Simon said into his microphone. The audience cheered as Huggybear took a quick bow.

"Congrats, Sir Huggybear. Looks like you've survived. See Michelle at the bar for your free drink." Huggy left the stage triumphant. "Next up the vocal stylings of Dr. Wilson!" The crowd clapped politely as James hopped on stage to join the emcee.

The emcee passed Wilson the mic, whispering instructions, "Follow the words on the plasma," he pointed to the foot of the stage. "And whatever you do, don't stop singing. It's the quickest way to sink."

James nodded and smiled, "I'd like to dedicate this song to my good friend, Lisa," he motioned to Cuddy. "Thanks for being there." House made gagging sounds. Wilson could see Lisa elbow him in the side, hard, then look on expectantly.

From the first note, he knew something was wrong. There were synthesizers and a dance beat, not the simple bassline and piano. The screen said 'Prince'-- definitely not Wayne Newton.

"This isn't my song," Wilson said to the DJ, holding the mic down by his side.

"Dr. Wilson, number 5128," Simon read off his clipboard.

"No, I had 1528, not 5128."

"Well, it's your song now and if you don't want to get a bucket of water dumped over your head, I'd start singing."

"Sing!" a guy shouted at him.

Wilson looked out at the audience sheepishly. "This isn't my--"

"You chose it!" he heard House call from the crowd. He found his friend's grinning face and realized what had happened. The crowd started to boo, as he should have started to sing a few moments before. Wilson shot House the nastiest look he could and began half-speaking, half-singing.

"_Baby , I know it's hard to believe/ But this body here is free tonight/ Your very own first class flight/ My plane's parked right outside, baby/ Don't you wanna go for a ride?_" Wilson could feel is face redden, not able to bring himself to look in Cuddy's direction.

"Wow," House said laughing. "Guess we know what he wants."

"Please. I'm not stupid, House. Wilson would never sing this song. Look at him, he's mortified."

"_I'm an international lover, yeah that's right/ Let me take you round the world/ I'll buy you diamonds and pearls/ Only if you're a good girl._"

"If it isn't his song, why would he keep singing?"

"Probably because he doesn't want to get a bucket of water dumped on his head for the second time tonight."

He smiled, then hollered at the stage, "You're supposed to be singing not talking!" A few members of the college group supported House's comment by shouting 'yeah' and booing briefly.

Cuddy hit her unwelcome companion in the arm. "Yeah, Jimmy! You know how I love Prince!" she called out, hoping to help him loosen up.

When James heard Lisa yell her support, he looked at her, relaxed a bit and began to sing in the highest voice he could muster. "_Darlin, I know it's been a long time/ Since you've been satisfied/ I can tell by the look in your eyes/ You need it real bad, you need it so bad, so bad._"

"You suck!" House bellowed, some audience members cheered in agreement.

"_Baby, maybe if you're a good girl/ I'll introduce you to my ride/ Don't you want to come inside?_"

"I sure do! Woo!" Lisa cheered, unable to let House succeed in embarrassing James.

Wilson smiled at Cuddy. Knowing that she wasn't offended, he began to sing with more feeling. "_C'mon baby, I won't fly too fast, I've got so/ Yeeahhhhhhh!/ International lover/ That's right baby/ Let me take you round the world/ Yeah, yeah!_"

"Get off the stage!" House shouted. This time his sentiment was accompanied with an equal number of boos from the college set and wolf-whistles from drunken women in the crowd.

"_I'll buy you diamonds and pearls/ I will buy you diamonds and pearls, baby/ Only if you're a good girl/ Gotta be good, you gotta be good, yeah, yeah, please._"

"I promised I'll be good!" Cuddy cried. House looked at her and laughed; she wanted to win and she didn't care how stupid she sounded.

"Good evening, this is your pilot James speaking. You are flying aboard the Seduction 747 and this plane is fully equipped with anything your body desires." Wilson spoke the lines, instructed to do so by the plasma.

"My ears are bleeding!" House bellowed. Instead of booing Wilson, a bachelorette party turned around to boo House.

"_If for any reason there is a loss in cabin pressure/ I will automatically drop down to apply more/ To activate the flow of excitement/ Extinguish all clothing materials and pull my body close to yours/ Place my lips over your mouth and kiss, kiss._"

Cuddy didn't need to yell as a woman from the overexcited bachelorette party screamed, "Oh yeah! You just tell me where, honey!"

Wilson blushed, speaking again as the screen directed. "Normally, in the event there is over-excitement, your seat cushion may be used as a floatation device. We ask that you please observe the 'no letting go' sign. I anticipate some turbulence along the way."

House began making loud retching sounds and the college crew joined him. Cuddy called him "sexy" and other females in the audience added their approval.

"We are now making our final approach to satisfaction. Please bring your lips, your arms, your hops into the upright and locked position for landing. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?" Wilson continued.

"I can feel it baby!" his drunken fan yelled from her table.

"_Yeaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!/ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah_," he sang passionately. "Welcome to satisfaction. Please remain awake until the aircraft has come to a complete stop. Thank you for flying James International," he finished, beyond grateful the humiliation was over.

The emcee joined Wilson on stage, taking the microphone as James passed it to him.

"Now that was a gutsy song choice! What is it folks? Does Dr. Wilson sink or swim?"

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **I've pretty much decided if Wilson sinks or swims, but let me know what you think. If there are a ton of people who want the opposite of what I'm thinking, I'll probably change it. As far as the song goes, I considered 'Baby Got Back', but I just didn't think it was right. I asked a good friend of mine if she knew of funny, kind of dirty song that's been around for a while. She loves Prince and suggested 'International Lover.' I listened to it (so should you if you can find it) and immediately started giggling at the thought of Wilson singing it. Hope it made you laugh, too. Next time, Wilson's fate and House sings!


	10. A Serenade of Sorts

**Author's Note (Part One):** Just want to say thanks again for all the reviews, reads and alerts. It's like Cuddy getting all of House's charts updated and on time-- Super awesome! The vote was overwhelming in Wilson's favor and I must admit I was going to let him sink and swim (get a drink and get soaked), but I know when I'm out-voted. Hope you like it! These characters belong to Shore and Company, except for Gladys, who is too empowered to belong to anyone.

* * *

**A Serenade of Sorts**

Wilson was nervous, though he couldn't believe it, as Cuddy lead half the audience in wild applause and House led the other half, attempting to boo him offstage.

"A close call, a very close call. Simon, what do you think? Should the good doctor sink or swim?"

Wilson saw Simon glance momentarily at House before answering. "I say... let him sink!"

The women booed the DJ while the men cheered.

"Tough crowd," the emcee observed. "I don't know, Simon. the guy sang Prince and was mostly in key. I have to say... swim!"

The verdict elicited praise from the ladies, but disapproval from the guys.

"It's not very often that Simon and I disagree, but it can happen. After all, I'm a Diamond Dave man and he actually deludes himself into thinking that Sammy Haggar can actually sing," the emcee joked.

"Love live the Red Rocker," Simon replied.

"That's why we've got our wise bartender, Suz, at the back, microphone at the ready. Suzie Q, what say you? Sink or swim?"

The crowd turned and tried to get a glimpse of Suz, a Carol King look-a-like, behind the bar. "I love Prince, and more than Prince, I love a man with the courage to get up on stage and sing Prince-- even if he will probably end up looking and sounding like an idiot. Dr. Wilson, he swims. Come on back and get your free booze, baby."

The crowd filled with cheering and booing; Cuddy stood out of her seat and clapped for her friend; House remained seated and stewed.

* * *

Wilson took a small bow and made his way down the stairs, walking toward the table he was sharing with Cuddy. He hadn't gotten far when his rabid fan reached out, grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a wet impromptu kiss, drink in hand.

"Ohmygawd, I am sooo sorry!" one of the bachelorettes squealed, prying her friend off of James. "Lena, leave him alone! She's just had a lot to drink."

After a few seconds of continual pulling, Lena left go of Wilson but not before she had spilled her cosmo down the front of his shirt.

"I'm so sorry!," the friend apologized again. "Here, let me help." The friend grabbed some cocktail napkins off the table and began patting Wilson's shirt, in a futile attempt to dry it.

"Really. It's fine. I've got it," Wilson said, taking the napkins from her and blotting his button-up. "Damn."

"Why don't you let me pay for your shirt," the friend offered.

"It's not necessary. Really."

"She's never like this. It's just she had a fight with her boyfriend and she usually doesn't drink--"

"It's ok. Really."

Lena, who had been in a daze since she spilled the drink, smiled at him dreamily. "Yeah, sorry! You were just so cute I couldn't resist," she slurred slightly.

"That's okay," James replied, keeping his distance. "No harm done."

As he was walking away Lena grabbed his ass and squeezed. "If I can ever do anything for you, you let me know. I wouldn't mind an international lover."

Wilson blushed fiercely and nodded, "I'll keep that in mind." He walked as fast as he could back to Cuddy, the giggles of the bachelorettes fading into the background.

* * *

"That's the most desperate woman I've ever seen," House said as Wilson approached. He looked at Cuddy, "Well, almost."

Lisa rolled her eyes, "What happened to your shirt?"

"My biggest fan spilled her drink down the front of me."

"Pink is a good color on you," House smirked. "I can't believe you didn't get the bucket of water. You sucked."

Cuddy crossed her arms, "It's time for you to go back to your table, House."

"Awww. Come on, grandma's snoring. Can't I just hang out here with--"

"She looks awake to me," Wilson replied.

House turned to see Gladys, eyes wide open, motioning for House to come back.

"Your date is waiting," Cuddy said with a smile.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone," he said playfully.

"Fat chance; you can't miss someone who never leaves." House narrowed his eyes and she narrowed hers in return. He slowly got up and limped across the room to the booth and Gladys.

"Aren't you going to sit down?" Lisa asked James, noticing he was still standing after House left.

"I think I'm going to run to the bathroom and see if I can put some soap and water on this stain, if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course."

"You don't mind sitting here alone?"

"I'm used to it," she smiled. "It'll give me time to order and finish my second drink, so I'll have enough courage in me to sing.

Wilson grinned, "I wasn't going to have my victory drink, so why don't I stop by the bar on my way to the bathroom and have them send you over a martini?"

"Are you sure you don't want it? You had to sing in a falsetto for it."

"I've had two drinks already. Any more and I won't be able to drive."

"If you insist."

"I'll be back in a few," James said, heading towards the bar.

* * *

A couple of minutes later the martini Wilson sent swam over to the table accompanied by House.

"This yours?" House asked her, knowing the answer was yes.

"I thought I told you to take a hike," she said, taking the drink from him and putting it one the table.

"Relax. I'm just waiting here until this guy finishes. I'm next and it was too far to limp too fast from my table."

"Where's Gladys?" Cuddy asked, glancing back at the booth.

"Do I look like her keeper? She probably went to find a new hearing aid battery or something." Cuddy picked up her drink to take a sip and House mischievously elbowed her, causing half the liquid to slosh over the rim onto the floor.

"Are you incapable of behaving like an adult?" she asked, irritated.

"Calm down, bubble butt. It was an accident," he replied, innocently.

"Just like the coffee, the picnic basket and the bucket of water?"

"Exactly," he grinned.

"And it was just a coincidence that you and Gladys came to the same bar as Wilson and I?"

"No, that was deliberate."

"Just wanted to drive us crazy?"

"Really, it's kind of scary how well you know me."

"House, after James gets finished cleaning his shirt--"

"That's why Wilson left?" he broke in. "He's such a girl."

"After he's done, we're going to leave--"

"But you might miss part of my song," he whined.

"I know that you'll have the urge to follow us and devise some scheme where either Wilson or I or both of us end up in the university fountain or caught in some sprinklers or have a hose turned on us... Whatever plan you're concocting, please don't--"

"What fun would that be--"

"Just let us finish our date in peace. I want to go home, maybe invite Wilson in for some coffee--"

"What do you mean, invite him in?" House demanded, playful demeanor quickly slipping away.

The crowd around them erupted as the man onstage was doused with water.

"Aren't you next?" Cuddy asked, ignoring House's question.

"Stop trying to distract me, just answer the question."

The announcer called the next name on his list, "Can Dr. Feelgood please report to the stage? It's your turn to sink or swim!"

"House, you better go before they skip over you," she said calmly.

He stared at her for a moment, glued to his seat, struck by the idea that she might actually want to be with Wilson.

"Dr. Feelgood? Are you in the building?" the emcee called out again. House shook his head, reluctantly left Cuddy and hobbled up to join the announcer.

* * *

"Great," Wilson mumbled to himself as he stood by the sink in the men's room, button-up in hand, rinsing the soap out. There was still a distinct pink blemish where the cosmo hit his favorite shirt-- the one Amber had given him for Christmas. He ran the shirt under the water again, accidently splashing the front of his t-shirt in the process.

"I know a dry cleaner who can work miracles; get that stain out no problem."

"This is the men's room!" Wilson shouted, startled. "You do know this is the men's room, right?," he asked with some concern, considering she might not.

"I'm not senile. I saw you come in here," Gladys said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I don't think you're supposed to be in here."

"I've got two sons, three grandsons and am currently dating two nice men from the senior center." James raised an eyebrow. "I've seen it all."

"I bet," he said, ringing out the excess water.

"Do you want the name of the cleaner's or not?"

"They can really work miracles?"

"My daughter once borrowed this silk dress I had to play pretend, spilled grape juice all over it and then left it in the back of her closet for three weeks. When I found it, the stain had crusted and molded. Smelled horrible. I took it in to my cleaner, a week later I picked it up and it was good as knew. Saul has magical powers."

"That would be great," he said making his way to the hand dryers.

"I'll give it to you on one condition."

"What does House want now?"

"No, this has nothing to do with him... Actually it does, but he doesn't know about it."

"What do you want?" he asked patiently.

"Greg is about to sing to Lisa--"

"_Greg is about to sing to Lisa?_"

"Yes, and you don't have to sound so surprised."

"Sorry, I just didn't know we were this close to the apocalypse," he smiled.

"He's going to sing to her and I need your word that you won't leave before he's done."

"Okay."

"And that you'll leave them alone if it looks like something could happen--"

"You don't want me to interfere?"

"Right."

"Gladys, they've been circling each other for years. I don't think that tonight will be any different from the thousands of other nights in their past."

"I just know something good is going to happen.."

"You've got my word; I won't interfere. But don't get your hopes up. If history is any indiction, House will screw it up. He's not capable of being honest about his feelings."

"He's never had me pushing him before."

"Let's hope that you're more adept at pushing than I am," Wilson put his shirt under the dryer and filled the bathroom with the noise of whooshing air.

"Gratzi Dry Cleaner's near Mario's Deli!" Gladys shouted so he would hear

"Thanks!" Wilson bellowed in reply, shaking his head at her naiveté as she left the men's room.

* * *

"Dr. Feelgood, I presume?" the emcee asked as House stepped on stage, cane first.

"That's me."

"Ladies and gentleman, let's hear it for the doctor!"

The crowd clapped and the emcee handed House the mic, leaning close to deliver the directions. "Follow the words--"

"Yeah, yeah," House interrupted. "I've done this before."

"Good luck," the announcer wished him as he walked off the stage.

There was a moment, a quick second, where House looked out at Cuddy and wished he had chosen another song. But he knew it was too late to change and, in light of recent information, he was ultimately glad he had chosen the one he was about to sing.

The music started. "_You made a fool of me, but them broken dreams have got to end_." House spoke over the musical interlude, "I'd like to dedicate this song to my good friend, Cuddy," he motioned in her direction. "Thanks for being there," he said, mocking Wilson's earlier sentiment. "And 'by there' I mean always there. Following me here with her boyfriend to make me jealous, showing me her thong, walking around braless. Sorry, it's not going to work. I'm not going to sleep with you again."

Cuddy turned beet red and House grinned. "_Hey woman, you got the blues, cause you ain't no one else to use/ There's a road that leads to nowhere, so just make miles/ Between here and there_."

Gladys exited the bathroom, surprised to find House on stage singing.

"_There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in/ You took my body and played to win/ Ha ha woman it's a crying shame/ But you ain't got no one else left to blame/ E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman_," House sang passionately.

Gladys shook her head and put her mouth with her hands, as she listened to House sing 'Evil Woman' to Cuddy. Lisa listened, her head down, embarrassed as audience members casually turned to glance at her every few seconds.

"_Rolled in from another town/ Hit some gold too hot to settle down/ But a fool and his money soon go separate ways/ And you found a fool lyin' in a daze_," House pointed to Wilson who was walking back to the table, shirt still slightly damp from the water.

"_Ha ha woman what you gonna do/ You destroyed all the virtues that the Lord gave to you/ It's so good that you're feeling pain/ But you better get yourself on board the very next train/ E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman_," House belted, still staring at Cuddy.

Wilson rolled his eyes and sat down, "Sorry."

She looked up at him, "It's House. What can you except?"

"Do you want to leave?" he asked, not worried about breaking the promise he made to Gladys.

"Not yet."

"You just let me know when you're ready."

"_Evil woman how you've done me wrong/ But you're tryin' to wail a different song/ Ha ha funny how you broke me up/ You made the wine now you drink the cup_."

"I'm going to kill him," Gladys mumbled under her breath as House continued his unflattering serenade.

"_I came runnin' everytime you cried/ Thought I saw love smilin' in your eyes/ Ha ha very nice to know, that you ain't got no place left to go. _Everybody!" The bar started to sing along with the exception of Lisa, James and Gladys.

"_E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman_," everyone sang.

"_You're an evil woman_," House crooned.

"_E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman_," they continued.

"_You're an evil woman_," House soloed.

"_E-evil woman_," the crowd chanted.

"_Such an evil woman_," House caroled passionately.

"_E-evil woman_," the audience warbled.

"_You're an evil woman_," House answered.

"_E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman_," the crowd finished, singing past the end of the song.

House added one last "_E-evil woman_" after the audience stopped. As the emcee took the stage, everyone cheered.

"Should I even ask?" the announcer said, after taking the microphone from House. "Sink or swim?" The crowd roared, only Wilson, Cuddy and Gladys voiced disapproval.

"Swim, man," Simon said loudly over the noise of the audience.

"It's unanimous! Dr. Feelgood, you're doing the butterfly, the front crawl, the back stroke, you're swimming! Go get your drink! Hell, get two!" The crowd cheered; House did a victory dance and limped off stage.

* * *

Both Gladys and House began to make their way to James and Lisa's table. The old woman's path blocked by bodies, House slowed by congratulations. When they converged, Wilson was getting his card back from the waitress and Cuddy was standing, picking up her purse.

"Where are you two going? Isn't it a little early for curfew?" House joked.

"We have work tomorrow and so do you," Cuddy said flatly, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

"You're leaving? How old are you exactly? Gladys is staying and she's ancient."

"See you tomorrow, House," Wilson said.

"Cuddy, what did you think of the song?" House grinned. Without saying a word, Cuddy pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket, put it on a nearby table, reached over, grabbed the pitcher of beer on it and emptied the contents down the front of House's shirt.

"Hey!" he yelled, angry.

"Now, you've had something spilled on you, too," she said, leaving, despite the upset calls from nearby table.

"Yellow's a good color on you," Wilson smiled and then turned to follow her.

House started to limp after them, but was stopped by his date.

"Idiot," Gladys said, knocking House in the chest. "What's wrong with you?"

"Me? Did you just see Cuddy pour a pitcher of beer down the front of my shirt?"

"How was that song supposed to be romantic?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"It wasn't."

"You agreed to--"

"I agreed to sing to Cuddy, not what to sing. If you wanted me to sing something romantic, you should have been more specific."

"Come on," she said, pulling his arm. "We've got to hurry."

"Hurry to... _the bar_? I've got two drinks waiting on me."

"We have to catch them so you can apologize," she said, dragging him.

"You can stop pulling my arm out of its socket because I am not apologizing. She dumped a ton of beer on me, I have nothing to apologize for."

"You rallied an entire bar to sing 'e-evil woman' to her."

"We serenaded her."

"Evil woman?" she raised her eyebrows. He looked at her and exhaled slowly, acknowledging she might be right.

"I'm not apologizing."

"Let's go."

* * *

Wilson opened the trunk, pulled out Cuddy's duffel and met her at her front door where she was searching in her purse for her keys.

"I'm sorry things went so horribly today," he said with a smile. "I should have hired a babysitter to keep House out of our hair.

She looked up at him, "It would have never worked, House was determined to ruin our date. Besides, the entire day wasn't a bust; it was fun spending time with you." Lisa pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.

"I had a good time too, House not withstanding." James handed the bag to her and yawned.

"Tired?"

"A little."

"Why don't you come in? I'll make you some coffee. I can put it in a travel mug and you can take it with you."

"That would be great, thanks." Lisa opened the door and James followed her, closing it behind him.

* * *

"See what you did?" Gladys said shrilly as she and House watched Wilson enter Cuddy's house.

"I didn't do anything," he responded quietly.

"You pushed them together! That could have been you if you had done something, anything to let her know that you like her! But no, you kept insisting that you don't and here we are! Here you are! Tragic! Just tragic!"

"Yes, tragic," he replied sarcastically, though it lacked venom. "You can take me back to the hospital now. Date's over."

"I can't take you back to the hospital! You've got to fix things!"

"There's nothing to fix. Take me to the hospital. I've got patient and some employees to check on."

"You're just going to give up?" she said in disbelief.

"The day's over. We did what we could. If they want to be stupid, let them."

"All that work, a whole day wasted for nothing?"

"I wouldn't say that, I had a good time driving Cuddy and Wilson crazy and, thanks to you, the hospital's nine grand richer."

"All that work, all that scheming! Nothing to show for it ! You didn't even look at my bunion!"

"Stop by tomorrow. Wilson's got clinic duty in the afternoon, he'll look at your bunion."

"You said you would look at it--"

"I lied. Everyone does. Now, will you take me to the hospital or should I start walking?"

Gladys stared at him for a second and shook her head. "I've never met anyone so determined to stay miserable," she said as she pulled off the curb into the street. "It's the saddest thing."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **It's not over yet, so don't feel too bad for House... after all, he did this to himself. I'm not sure how many chapters are left... but I know what's going to happen and I think you'll be pleased... or at least I hope you will be. The song, in case you didn't know, is ELO's 'Evil Woman' which, unlike Prince's songs, can be found and heard on YouTube. I hope no one was really let down by the song, I just didn't think we were at the point in the story where House would/could seriously sing to Cuddy. Up next: House talks to/yells at Wilson. Fun stuff.


	11. A Conditional Yes

**Author's Note (Part One): ** A big thanks and a monster hug goes to everyone reviewing, reading and alerting. Thanks for the love! This chapter was a little hard to write, so I hope nothing is really OOC (or just plain crappy). It's shorter than usual (mostly because I was having problems writing it). Hope you like it (even though it's not as fun as the other chapters). I own 'House' in an alternate universe... David Shore and some other rich people own it in this one.

* * *

**A Conditional Yes**

"Hey, House," an unamused voice said as someone shook him awake. "Get up. You know Dr. Cuddy told you to stay out of the OB/GYN lounge."

House opened his eyes slowly, blinking hard two times to adjust them to the blinding fluorescent lighting.

"What time is it?" he yawned.

"7:38," Dr. Kubisak replied, arms crossed.

"Too early. I asked for a ten a.m. wake up call. Come back in two and a half hours," he said, closing his eyes.

"Get out or I call Cuddy and you know she won't appreciate being bothered at home."

House opened his eyes again, "She's not in yet?"

"No, her assistant said she'd be late."

Curiosity getting the better of him, House grabbed his cane, which was propped against the side of the armchair, stood up and stretched, taking extra care to massage his leg. "Normally I wouldn't leave, but since you asked so nicely." He limped out of the lounge and toward the elevators.

* * *

Wilson balanced his coffee on top of a stack of patient files and pulled his keys out of his pocket. Carefully he unlocked the door to his office and pushed it open, making a beeline for his desk before he had a chance to spill his morning brew.

As soon as the paper cup hit the desk a voice behind him said, "You're late."

"How did you get in to my office? Janitor? Lockpick?" Wilson asked without turning around, making his way to his desk chair.

"No need to break-in, I've got a copy," House replied.

"Funny, I don't remember giving you one," he said, sitting down. House had made himself at home, sprawled on Wilson's couch, doctor bear under his head functioning as a make-shift pillow.

"Don't act so surprised. I've got a copy of all of your keys. How do you think I get into your apartment and steal your food?"

"That's you?!" Wilson said in disbelief. "This whole time I've been giving Andre, the building manager the evil eye. I feel terrible."

"Don't. Your evil eye doesn't look evil; it looks like you're trying to wink but can't."

"Stop lying. It's terrifying." Wilson demonstrated his point by squinting one eye more than the other and scowling. He stopped, rubbing the bump on his face which had begun to ache.

House looked on in amusement and chuckled. "Scary," he shuddered.

"You've known me for too long; you're immune."

"Yeah, _that's _it," he replied sarcastically. "Car towed? No gel for your hair? Needed to ice your boo-boo? Tweezed your eyebrows-- no, definitely _not_ that--"

"I would appreciate it if you would stop telling people to call me 'Eyebrows.' Two nurses and Brown asked me if it really was my nickname. I told them no."

"Luckily I also told Chase, Kutner and Margaret from accounting. By the end of the day, it'll be your new moniker," House smirked.

"There's nothing wrong with my eyebrows, House," Wilson said with a frown.

"Course not," House said moving the bear to another position behind his head. "Late. Reason?"

"Overslept."

"You never oversleep."

"I did today." Wilson took a sip of coffee, "Mystery solved."

"How would a man, so anal he sets three separate alarms, oversleep?"

"I'm sure you will enlighten me."

"Either he was really tired or he wasn't around his alarm clock. Where'd you sleep last night?"

"The same place I sleep every night-- my bed."

"You're lying."

"You caught me," House's stomach dropped. "I slept on my couch."

"You didn't go home last night."

"Of course I did."

"No, you didn't. I know because I waited outside your building until two in the morning."

Wilson raised his eyebrows, "You were stalking me?"

"No, stalking is when you follow someone around. I was waiting on you. More like a stakeout."

"Was there a reason for this stakeout or were you just bored?"

"I wanted to know when you got home."

"Why?"

"I was worried about you," House replied simply.

"Of course you were," Wilson replied, unconvinced.

"It is possible for me to care--"

"Just ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever it is you want to know."

"Why do you think I--"

"Why else would you get up early enough to beat me in? You never get in before me. Obviously you have something on your mind, you broke into my office to wait for me."

"I never need a reason to invade someone's privacy, you know that."

"I didn't bring the turban and the envelopes with me today, House. If you want to know something, just ask. If not, leave so I can get to work."

"You didn't come home last night--"

"We've already established I did," Wilson corrected him, losing his patience.

"But I was waiting--"

"You waited until two, I got in around three."

"That's awfully late for someone who said he had to go home because he had to work the following day."

"How can I put this?" he said, pretending to think. "Cuddy and I had reached our Gladys and House quota for the day. We didn't want to hurt Gladys' feelings, so we lied. I'm told everyone does it."

"You didn't go anywhere else--"

"You have no way of knowing that... Unless you followed us." Wilson's eyes widened, "_You followed us again?_"

"She invited you in," House said, eyes focused on the ceiling, his voice suddenly quiet.

"She did," Wilson replied, studying his friend.

"And you went in."

"I did."

"And you didn't get home until three."

"I didn't."

House sat up and looking Wilson in the eye, "What were you doing for four hours in Cuddy's house?"

"Does it matter?" Wilson raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," he answered firmly.

"Why does it matter?"

They sat in uncomfortable silence as House stared at Wilson, looking for a tell. Wilson stared back, a blank slate, impossible to read. House's beeper went off and broke the quiet; without looking he pushed the button to stop the noise.

"It just does," House finally replied.

"That's not a good enough answer," Wilson said.

"Did you sleep with her?" House asked, his voice low.

"Why does it matter?" Wilson repeated.

"Did you sleep with Cuddy?" House asked more forcefully, his tone becoming dangerous. He stood and walked towards Wilson's desk.

"Why does it matter if I did?" Wilson asked again, waiting for House to finally break, to be honest with him, with himself.

House narrowed his eyes, angry, "Just answer the question."

"You first," Wilson insisted.

"Answer the question, Wilson," he growled.

"No, not until you--"

"Did you have sex with Cuddy? Yes or no?!" House shouted, his patience gone. "You did, didn't you?" Wilson let out a frustrated sigh and locked eyes with his friend, not saying anything.

"Guess you finally forgot about Amber," House said, provoking Wilson.

"I'm not over Amber!" Wilson shouted back and stood up, his own temper rising.

"Of course, I hear that getting under someone new is how you do it," he continued, ignoring Wilson's remark.

"That you could say that... Is just... Is just... _How could you say that?_" Wilson rambled, so upset he couldn't form sentences.

House ignored him and continued, "You know that I-- You know that Cuddy--"

Wilson glared at House with a mixture of devastation and fury, breathing hard, shaking slightly. " I love Amber," he said softly, seething.

"You can't be too broken up about your dead girlfriend if you're fucking Cuddy," he spat.

Before Wilson could bellow a response, Foreman opened the door, pausing to assess the situation he had walked in on.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you want?" House snapped.

"I need you to talk to the patient."

"Didn't I hire people to do that?"

"Yes. One is running tests and the other two are in jail."

"Jail?" Wilson's jaw dropped, momentarily forgetting his fight with House.

"Kutner and Taub were arrested breaking into Mr. Shauer's apartment. He wants to talk to you before he decides whether or not he's pressing charges."

"That's what they get for getting caught," House grumbled.

"So they're still in jail?" Wilson asked.

"Yes and for every minute he doesn't see House, Mr. Shauer gets angrier and less likely to drop the charges."

"Fine," House said, irritated. "Go tell the patient I'm on my way." Foreman didn't budge. "Go, I'm coming."

Foreman stared at House for a moment. "I'd hurry. It's only a matter of time before Cuddy hears about this and it'd be better for you if the situation was resolved by then." He then left, leaving the door open behind him.

"I'll be back," House said.

"I didn't sleep with her," Wilson said coldly. House nodded, acknowledging the confession. He had one foot out the door when Wilson stopped him. "I asked her out on another date. A proper one this time with flowers, a nice restaurant... without you."

House looked back at him over his shoulder, waiting for the answer to a silent question.

"She said I wasn't ready and turned me down." Relieved, House's shoulders automatically dropped a fraction of an inch.

As House was shutting the door behind him he heard Wilson finish, "She said when I was ready, the answer was yes."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two):** We're coming close to the end. I think I've got one or two chapters left. I'm thinking about continuing it (very slightly) in another fic... I'd like to do something with the PI plotline. If you read Watch with Kristen, you know what I'm talking about. I don't know, we'll see. Next time: Gladys finally gets that bunion looked at! House and.. wait for it... Cuddy! Yay!

**Author's Note (Part Three):** If you're interested Huddy fans there's a poll up at Watch With Kristin at where you can vote who you think House really belongs with. Just sayin'. _Edited three minutes after first post_.


	12. The Rest of the Story

**Author's Note (Part One): **Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, the reads and the alerts. They can only be described as spen-dubatibly-awesome! Sorry this chapter has taken forever. I had to work out some stuff and had to pull myself away from my "The Wire" Season 5 and "House" Season 4 new dvd sets. It was really hard to turn them off! This chapter marks the return of Gladys. Hope you like it!

* * *

**The Rest of the Story**

"Exam room three," Lisa said to James, holding out the next patient file.

"So, I've got two tickets to this auction for cancer research. I thought, maybe you'd like to go--"

"Are you asking me on a date?" she interrupted, eyebrow raised.

"Not a date date. A friend date. I don't want to go to the thing by myself."

She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes and waved the file, "Exam room three."

"Lance Armstrong is going to be there; I know you have a little crush on him," he kidded, Cuddy turned pink.

"So does House; you should take him."

"We had a fight this morning, I need a little space."

"What'd he do now?" Lisa asked.

"It's not important," James replied, shaking off the question. "Please come?"

"After last night, I don't think I can handle the stress of an actual date with you."

"It's not a real date. It's just two friends having a good time together."

"But House won't see it that way. He'll make it his job to make us miserable. If there's one thing House knows, it's misery."

"I won't tell him anything. I promise."

"He'll find out. He always does."

"I'll hire him a hooker," Cuddy frowned. "Or something. Come on, Lisa."

She sighed, shook her head, "Sorry." She handed him the file, "Exam room three."

"Exam room three," he repeated glumly as he headed toward the door, file in hand.

* * *

Wilson was surprised to find Gladys sitting on the table, legs dangling, arms crossed when he opened the door.

"Mrs. Witherspoon, nice to see you again," Wilson held out his hand, but was surprised when he did not receive the shake he had been expecting. "What seems to be the problem?"

"You," she said, narrowing her eyes, making her look a little like Mr. Magoo squinting to read.

"Me?" he replied, confused.

"What's the big idea?"

"I don't know what you're--"

"Can it, Eyebrows. I know you asked Dr. Cuddy out on a date."

"You must have spoken with House."

"Greg? No. Why would you think that?"

"Because you know I asked Lisa out on a date and I told House a few hours ago."

"Hours ago... But I just heard you ask her... _Wait a minute_. Are you saying that you asked her out _two times_?" Gladys questioned, shocked.

Wilson sighed and took a seat on the near by stool, preparing for the worst. "Mrs. Witherspoon is there any medical reason you're here? Or are you just here to do House's bidding?"

"First of all, I don't do anyone's bidding but my own. I am too old and too rich to be bossed around by some doctor. Secondly, yes. I need someone to look at my bunion."

"I thought House did that yesterday."

"He never got around to it."

"Of course he didn't," Wilson groaned.

"He was going to, but he was so upset after seeing you go into Dr. Cuddy's house that he couldn't bring himself to do it. So he told me to come into the clinic today and see you."

"I'm sure he did," Wilson grumbled. "Would you take off your shoe for me?"

Gladys began sliding off her left Keds sneaker, "I thought Greg was your friend."

"He is," Wilson replied.

"Then why would you ask the woman he's in love with out on a date when you know how he feels about her?" Gladys asked, peeling off her sock.

Wilson scooted his chair close to examine Gladys' foot. "He says he doesn't have any feelings for her."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"I told him I would back off. All he had to do was admit that he had feelings for her."

"I've known him for all of two days and even I know that he would never actually admit it," Gladys said, frustrated. "Are you sure you asking Dr. Cuddy out has absolutely nothing to do with you blaming Greg for the death of your girlfriend?"

"He told you that?" Wilson asked, incensed.

"Isn't that the reason you bid on her? To get him back?"

"No, that isn't the reason. And I told him I didn't blame him any more. Though, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he completely ignored what I said," Wilson replied, irritated. "And I didn't ask her out twice, not really. I just asked her out twice to the same event."

"What did she say?"

"She said I wasn't ready to date, but when I am ready she will."

"So, she wants to date you?" Gladys asked, obviously saddened by the news.

Wilson exhaled slowly and studied Gladys' foot, "She led me to believe that she wasn't really interested."

"Really? What did she say?"

"If I'm ready and that's what I want, she's up for it. That she'll try, but she thinks that we're better friends than we would be lovers. That we lack the necessary heat to be and stay passionate about each other."

"Still she said she would," the old woman said, thoughtfully.

"She said relationships should be fiery like volcanos and bonfires, and we would be an Easy Bake Oven."

"Ouch."

"So, I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Is that what you told Greg?"

"I told House I asked Lisa out; that she said I wasn't ready, but when I was she said she would."

"You didn't tell him about the rest of the conversation? The Easy Bake Oven thing?"

"I didn't think it was necessary," Wilson sat back in his chair. "You can put your sock and shoe back on."

"But he'll think she wants to date you!"

"That was the plan. Scare him into action."

Gladys smiled and shook her finger, "You, you are good."

"I try," he smiled, writing on her chart.

"Do you think it will work?" she asked hopefully.

"So far the only one moved into action is you."

"Maybe if you told him the whole story--"

"No," Wilson held his hands up. "He's on his own. If he can't admit to having feelings for her, then that's his problem. She'll find someone and he can end up alone and miserable for all I care."

"You don't mean that!" Gladys reprimanded.

"I do at the moment," Wilson handed Gladys a slip of paper. "This is the number for Dr. Walton, an excellent podiatrist and surgeon. Give him a call and set-up an appointment. Together you two can discuss your options about how to best treat your bunion."

Gladys took the piece of paper. "Well, if you're not going to do anything, I guess it's up to me to help Greg realize."

"Good luck with that," Wilson stood up and shook Gladys' hand.

"Dr. Wilson, before you go, do you know where I can find Dr. House?"

"If he's here, he'll be in office on the fourth floor."

"Thanks."

"It's been an... experience. Take care, Mrs. Witherspoon." Wilson said.

"You too, Dr. Wilson." He opened the door to leave. "And stop asking Dr. Cuddy out on dates!"

He smiled, nodding his head. Gladys watched as the exam room door shut behind him. She quickly put on her sock and shoe before setting off to find her friend.

* * *

"Morons!" House admonished Kutner and Taub as they joined Thirteen and Foreman in the conference room. "Common sense should tell you to make sure no one's home before you break into someone's apartment."

"The patient said he lived alone--" Taub began.

"He lied! They all do! You two should know that by now!" House yelled, brandishing his cane wildly.

"What reason--" Kutner started.

"I don't care why he lied! All I care about it how annoying it's going to be when Cuddy finds me and yells at me for having the two of you break into the patient's apartment. Do you have any idea how many clinic hours I'm going to get for this?"

"Clinic hours, that's going to be tough," Taub replied sarcastically. "I'm just glad Kutner and I might go to jail so we won't get any clinic hours."

"Oh, stop whining," House snapped. "The patient agreed to drop all charges as long as we can diagnose him. Please tell me that you at least found something useful during your botched attempt to do your job."

"He eats a lot of canned soup," Kutner answered.

"He likes chicken noodle. That all you got?" House asked, incredulously.

"The lady found us before we could make it out of the kitchen," Kutner said defensively.

"Underneath the sink there was some mold. Could have been toxic," Taub offered.

"I'm assuming you don't have a sample?"

"We were interrupted before I had a chance to--"

"Fine. Thirteen, test the patient for aspergillosis. Foreman, see if the patient will let you go to his apartment and look around. Tweedledee and Tweedledum, go to the clinic."

"Shouldn't we be trying to find out what's wrong with Mr. Shauer?" Kutner asked.

"_No_. You should be trying to complete as many of my clinic hours as possible in the hopes that I won't fire you. Now go."

The group left, Kutner and Taub more reluctantly than Foreman and Thirteen. House was about to retire to his office, lock the doors, shut the blinds and pray Cuddy didn't find him when Gladys barged into the room looking irritated.

"Well?!" she demanded, wheezing slightly, clutching her side.

House raised his eyebrows, "Something exciting you want to talk about? A sale on Metamucil?"

"What are you going to do?"

"For lunch? The next time I hear Miley Cyrus on the radio? About the genocide in the Sudan?" She narrowed her eyes as she caught her breath. "Cold reuben, no pickles, as usual. Cut off my ears. Donate money and e-mail my congressman."

"About Dr. Cuddy!" she said, exasperated.

"Oh," he said, pretending to have an epiphany. "Avoid her at all costs."

"Avoid her?! How is that going to help you win her affections?"

"It's not. It's going to help keep me alive. As soon as she finds out two of my doctors were arrested, she'll be coming to find me, ice pick in hand."

"You've got to tell her how you feel about her!"

"She knows."

"She does?" Gladys asked, surprised.

"Yes. Just the other day I told her that she wasn't a real doctor and that she dressed like a hooker."

Gladys reached over and swatted him. "Tell her you like her before you lose her to your friend."

House frowned, "You might want to sit down, I have some very upsetting news for you. I am not interested in Cuddy romantically."

"When are you going to stop lying to yourself?"

House sighed, "I'm not lying to myself. Don't wet your Depends, but Wilson has already asked Cuddy out and she said yes."

"She didn't really."

"Yes, she did."

"I spoke with Dr. Wilson no more than ten minutes ago and he told me that she said yes, but--"

"But she wouldn't go out with him until he was ready to date again. Yeah, I know. I talked to Wilson, too."

"Technically the truth, but if that's all he told you he left out some details."

"What kind of details?" House asked, his interests piqued.

"Very important ones," she teased.

"Like?"

"Before I tell you I want to hear you say it."

"Oh, okay," House nodded. "_Please?_"

"No," Gladys said, perturbed, "I want you to admit that you like her."

"I'm not _that_ interested," he said and began limping toward his office door.

Gladys waited for him to stop, but when he reached the handle and opened the door, she caved. "She said she would go out with him if that's what he wanted, but she wasn't really interested in a relationship with him."

House turned around, "Did she say why?"

"She was pretty vague. Something about friendship and Easy Bake Ovens. You'd really have to ask her."

"Thanks for the info. If you'll excuse me, I've got to get my pager and find somewhere to hide."

"You're not going to go talk to her?"

"I just told you, I'm avoiding her at all costs."

"But you have to talk to her!" Gladys pleaded.

"I'm not going to risk disembowelment to ask Cuddy why she doesn't find Wilson dreamy."

"What about--"

"Gladys, it's been fun, really. But I've got to go before the lawyer breaks down and tells Cuddy what's going on," he opened the door to his office. "And if you ever have some spare cash lying around, I could always use a villa in Italy, Captain America's chopper and my own personal masseuse.

"That's it? You're just going to hide from her?"

"Pretty much," he replied, entering the office and grabbing his pager of the desk. He waved good-bye to Gladys through the glass wall and left out the other door.

The old woman stood in the conference room for a moment, left there by House, wondering how she was going to get him to talk to Dr. Cuddy if he was avoiding her. Deciding on the best course of action, Gladys left the conference room.

She followed House onto the elevator and off it when they reached the lobby. After he said good-bye to her for the second time, she watched as he quickly limped down the hall towards the lecture rooms. When he was out of sight she smiled and headed toward the clinic. If he was going to play hide and seek it was only fair that she find Dr. Cuddy and let her know that she was it.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **It seems like the next chapter will be the last (well, I am going to continue, but in a different story... really, just an excuse for more jealousy). For those of you who don't feel like following the new story, I'll write an slightly alternate ending for you. Next time, Cuddy/House... Promise!


	13. Chemistry

**Author's Note (Part One): **Hey, I just wanted to thank you all again for all the amazing reviews, alerts and reads. They are better than sunshine and strawberry shortcake! So, here it is, the last chapter (excluding the alternate ending). Wow, this is the first fic I've finished. I've got to say, it feels good! Really, I can't tell you how great it is that you've stuck with me until the end-- You guys rock! I hope it doesn't disappoint too much (remember, there's a sequel coming) and isn't too OOC (I worry about that). The gang from Princeton Plainsboro belongs to Shore and Jacobs.

* * *

**Chemistry**

Gladys was able to find Dr. Cuddy easily, she was still at the clinic desk, assigning patient files to duty-serving doctors. By the smile on her face it was obvious that she hadn't heard about the day's earlier events. Gladys almost hated to ruin her good mood... Almost. After all, ruining the mood was the easiest way to get the two doctors in the same room and the old lady couldn't pass up such a chance.

"Dr. Cuddy!" she said cheerily as she closed the gap between them.

Cuddy smiled, somewhat stiffly, "Mrs. Witherspoon, I told you to call me Lisa."

"Alright then, Lisa, how are you doing?"

"No worse than I was forty-five minutes ago when you asked me."

"Oh, dear me, I forgot. Old age, you know. It's a bitch." Cuddy smiled genuinely. "I just thought that with what's happened you might want to come with me for a nice, relaxing lunch. But I can see that you've taken it in stride. I don't think I could be so calm about it," she finished innocently.

Lisa's eyebrows furled in confusion, "Yes, well, it took some effort, but I decided I wasn't going to let it get the better of me."

"Very impressive, I must say. Of course, I'm sure that you'll be hearing from board members and other donors, but I completely understand."

"You do?"

"Of course. I admit that I had questions, but Greg answered them for me personally."

"He did?"

"Yes, of course. In fact, if you receive more questions I think it would be a good idea to have Dr. House talk to them as well."

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, he was very convincing. When I heard that Dr. Kutner and Dr. Taub had been arrested for breaking into a patient's home, I was wary of the situation, to say the least."

Shock and fury flitted across Cuddy's face briefly before she replaced her honest reaction with an understanding, thoughtful look. "Yes, it's perfectly understandable you would feel that way."

"But then Greg explained the situation. He told me that he and his team needed additional information the patient wasn't giving them, and that the patient is going to the drop charges as long as he's correctly diagnosed. I'm just glad that the hospital was able to bail them out."

"Of course," Cuddy lied. "We couldn't let our doctors spend the night in jail."

"Oh, but didn't they spend last night jail?"

"Yes, I meant another night in jail," Cuddy covered, all the while planning how to best give House a lobotomy.

"I just hope no one opts to pull their funding or donations before they are given the whole story."

"Yes, of course," Lisa replied. She had just decided to use the heel of her Jimmy Choo.

"Well, I better be off... Unless you've changed your mind about lunch."

"Unfortunately, I have too much work to do. Maybe another time."

"I would love that. Have an excellent day, Lisa."

"Mrs. Witherspoon, before you leave, might you tell me where you left Dr. House? That way I can find him to let him know how much I appreciate him talking with you."

"We spoke in his office, but he took the elevator down with me. I'm quite sure that I saw him head in the direction of the lecture halls."

"Thank you so much," Cuddy smiled. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Witherspoon."

"I will. You tell Dr. House I completely understand. Sometimes you have to do anything to get the job done."

Cuddy nodded and she watched Gladys disappear down the hall before dashing to talk with her assistant.

* * *

"Tom," she said, dread in the pit of her stomach, "Have I received any calls?"

He looked up at her carefully and she knew from his pitying, puppy dog eyes that the shit had hit the proverbial fan. "Yes. Quite a few actually."

She ran a hand thorough her hair with apprehension. "Do they have anything to do with Dr. Taub and Dr. Kutner?" He looked back at her sympathetically. "How bad?"

"Three trustees, two board members, the university president and six large donors-- all of whom are thinking about giving their money to another institution," he said with a grimace. Cuddy groaned. "Would you like me to call them back? Send them something?"

"Yes, tell them that the situation was greatly blown out of proportion. Mr. Shauer was aware that the doctors would be going to his home, but he was under heavy medication and must have forgotten. Thanks to the efforts of Dr. House and his staff, Mr. Shauer will be diagnosed and sent home healthy and happy, no charges pressed. Furthermore, I have informed Dr. House that his doctors are not allowed into patients' homes even with their permission."

"You have?"

"I'll tell him when I find him."

"What if they're unsatisfied with the response?"

"Set-up fifteen minute meetings with Dr. House and myself tomorrow for anyone still concerned. In fact, set-up a lunch meeting with the president to discuss the matter."

"What if he has plans?"

"Then schedule a meeting at his convenience. Tell the lawyer to be in my office in ten minutes and let him sweat there until I'm back. The idiot shouldn't have posted bail without my permission. And find Dr. Foreman-- make sure that he knows about the situation. If he does, tell him I want him in my office in an hour."

"Anything else?"

Cuddy bit her bottom lip and thought, "Find Dr. Kutner and Dr. Taub and tell them I want to see them in my office in a hour as well."

"Will do, boss."

"Thanks, Tom. Now that that's settled, I'm going to go find House and kill him."

* * *

House sat at the piano in the lecture hall he had used to play fellowship survivor, playing an upbeat little piece he had written when he was with Stacey. It was composed before the infarction and lacked the dismal undertone of sadness that all of his music since possessed. He wondered, briefly, if he'd ever he happy enough again to write something as breezy and beautiful. He doubted that he would.

Suddenly, the door swung open at the back of the room, hitting the wall and interrupting his thoughts. The familiar clicking of heels was followed by a furious "House!"

He turned toward her, still seated on the bench and replied, "Scream it again, but this time make it throatier and moan a little."

"When were you going to tell me that Kutner and Taub got arrested?" she said angrily, clicking sounds growing louder as she descended the stairs.

"Kutner and Taub were arrested?" he said in mock-horror. "Oh my god! Are they alright?"

"You had them break into Mr. Shauer's apartment?" she said, raising her arms in disbelief.

"I had them do research in Mr. Shauer's apartment," he replied, turning back to face the keyboard.

"Research that got them arrested!" she yelled, now standing right beside him, hands on her hips.

"I'm right here, you don't have to shout." House started to play a different song, quietly. It was a jazzy interpretation of a pop song, one of the few after 1970 that he really liked. Though he didn't look up at her, he could feel Cuddy's frown grow more pronounced at the melody.

"House, do you know what you've done? It's bad enough that the doctors, the board and the president think I let you run around like a crazy person, but now the benefactors know. Until now the donors have never gotten wind of your schemes, your brushes with the law and hospital hierarchy. But since you didn't tell me that Kutner and Taub were arrested, I couldn't control the flow of information and now I have people threatening to take their money elsewhere!"

"You'll be able to talk them out of it," he said tickling the keys. "Just wear your lowest cut top, shortest skirt and lacy red bra. They'll be putty in your hands. It always works for me."

"No, it doesn't. You ignore everything I say, lacy bra or not. It never works on you. "

"Works in the shower at least," he smirked, continuing to play.

"_House_," she said seriously, "You have no idea how difficult my last meeting with the president was, how horrifying the last board meeting was. I had to throw a fundraiser just to pay for the MRI you broke. Or should I say, the third MRI you broke?"

"Technically, I didn't break it. Kutner and Thirteen did."

"When you disregard my orders, not only do you reek havoc, you make it abundantly clear that I can't control you."

"I didn't know that was a secret."

"It's something that we _want_ to keep secret because it's not exactly a desirable trait to have in a Dean. I'm supposed to be able to make you behave, when I can't it makes me look like I'm not capable... And that's bad because it could lead to me losing my job. And let's face it, if I go, you won't be far behind."

"You don't know that for sure. They could sack you and keep me around. Maybe I'll behave better for someone isn't such a tease," he said playfully.

Cuddy threw her hands up in the air and plopped down on the bench beside him. "I don't know what you want from me House."

"A lap dance would be nice," he kept joking.

She sighed, "Three board members are restless. After learning that you destroyed a third MRI, they were livid and rightfully so. You show no respect for hospital property, protocol or administration. They're tired of your ego, your superiority complex, the appalling way you treat patients and the contempt you show for them. They wanted me to fire you and I refused. Then they told me, in no uncertain terms, that the next time you caused problems for the hospital, they would be expecting me to. And if I didn't they would be forced to reconsider whether I am still have what it takes to be Dean."

"So, you're here to can me?"

"No, of course not."

"Cool. So we're good?"

"_No_, we are _not_ good. We are far from good," she said, exasperated. "I haven't fired you; I'm not going to fire you; which means that I might be fired. And it's not just three board members, other doctors are constantly complaining that I give you special privileges, that I favor you. The president of the university is beginning to doubt that I can handle you. The last time we talked, he let it be known that he thought my 'beside vigil', as he called it, after the bus accident was inappropriate. He thinks that our friendship is impeding me from doing my job. Who knows? Maybe it is. Maybe my personal feelings for you are getting in the way. I don't know," she finished softly.

They sat in silence for a moment as House continued to play the upbeat number, Cuddy waiting for a response, some acknowledgement that he understood. "Did you even listen to me? Or are you so caught up in that song that you can't bother to pay attention?" she asked. After a minute passed with no answer, she stood up. "I don't know what I expected," she mumbled to herself.

House exhaled slowly and stopped playing the happy tune. He plinked a few notes, "You turned Wilson down. Why?"

She shook her head, "I tell you I might, _we might_, lose our jobs and you want to talk about my love life."

He began a slow, bare melody, gently tapping the keys. "Wilson is a catch, at least most women think so."

"That's it? You're going to ignore everything I just told you and change subjects? You're not going to say anything?"

He played the strain a little louder, still as bare and slow. She frowned, letting a sharp breath escape her lips before turning to make her way up the steps.

Then House began sing, so quiet it was almost a whisper; a gesture that stopped her in her tracks. "_Woman, I can hardly express/ My mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness/ After all, I'm forever in your debt/ And woman, I will try to express/ My inner feelings of thankfulness/ For showing me the meaning of success_." He continued playing, but stopped singing.

"Sorry," he said in a hushed voice. Cuddy couldn't believe her ears; he was sincerely apologizing. Wondering what else he might say, she stayed, returning to bench, taking a seat beside him.

"Why are you so curious about James and me" she asked.

He shrugged and continued to play. "I'm interested. Every woman I've ever met loves Wilson. You're the only one who's ever turned him down."

"I find that hard to believe."

"He's every female's fantasy; intelligent, attractive, successful, sensitive, modest, charming, all of the qualities in men that Nora Ephron glorifies."

"True, he's all of those things." House frowned at her admittance. "But it wouldn't work between us."

"It could."

"No, we're friends. There's no passion, no fire. When I'm standing next to him, I don't get a charge; there's no spark."

"The spark could develop, you could light the fire."

"It doesn't work that way," she insisted, wanting him to understand. "You can't fake chemistry. You have it with someone people and some people you don't. Wilson and I don't have it. I've got it with--" She stopped herself and House raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I've had it before."

"The passion, the fire, the chemistry thing is that a deal-breaker?"

"I guess so."

The sat in silence, both lost in thought. After a few moments, House began singing again. This time a little louder, but just as sweetly. "_Woman I know you understand/ The little child inside the man/ Please remember my life is in your hands/ And woman, hold me close to your heart/ However distant, don't keep us apart/ After all it's written in the stars_," he finished the verse, but kept playing the tune.

"We have chemistry," he said, concentrating harder than he needed to on the keys. When she didn't reply right away, he continued, "At least, I think we do."

"Yes," she said slowly, "We do."

"We've got the deal-breaker," he said, leaning toward her as he continued to play.

"House, what exactly are you trying to say?" she said, further closing the space between them.

He looked up at her, "Maybe we should--"

"Lisa!" Wilson barged into the room, huffing. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. House stopped playing and moved away from Cuddy, scooting toward the other end of the bench. When he had composed himself, James stood up again, noticing for the first time the two of his friends sharing a piano bench. "I am... interrupting something?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"As a matter of fact--" Cuddy started, irritated.

"No," House said, picking up his cane and standing. "You're not interrupting anything."

"Are you sure?" he asked again, this time looking directly at Lisa.

"Nope. Perfect timing, as usual," House answered before Cuddy had the chance to say anything.

"Okay," Wilson replied slowly. "Lisa, we've got a board meeting in five minutes."

"Are you sure? I don't think I have one on my calendar."

"It's impromptu-- In response to Kutner and Taub's arrest I assume. I was lucky I passed Brown in the hall on his way down or else I wouldn't know. Apparently, someone forgot to tell us."

Cuddy sighed, desperate to finish her conversation with House, knowing that she had to go to the meeting. "House, I've got to go and find out--"

"Of course," he replied quickly and a little too understanding.

"When I'm done maybe we can finish our conversation?"

House stared her for a moment, making her nervous. "Maybe. For now I'm off to save a life, Kutner and Taub from years in prison and your job." He limped towards the side door. "Now you go save mine," he called to her, over his shoulder, as he exited the room.

"We better hurry," Wilson told her as she began climbing the steps. "We've got three minutes."

The pair sped to the stairwell, no time to take the elevator up a floor.

"So, what were you two talking about?" Wilson questioned as they climbed.

"Chemistry."

* * *

House limped back to his office, deep in thought. He was glad that Wilson interrupted him before he said something he would live to regret. '_Liar_,_' _a small voice inside his head screamed impatiently. He wanted to say it, wanted to tell her. He had wanted to since the crash, for months, maybe years. It was easier for him to ignore it, the feelings she stirred. Better that he paid them no attention he had decided; able to see the potential end, the possible pain. Maybe was the only thing he could think as he sat down behind his desk. _Maybe_. Maybe she felt the same, maybe he could be better, maybe it could be different, maybe it was time.

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two): **That's it! I know it's open-ended (but that's because I'm going to write a sequel), so I hope you don't hate it. I'm going to post the alternate ending (for those of you who don't want to continue) and the first chapter of the sequel at the same time-- but I have to update my other fic first, so hang in there and let me know what you thought!

If you're having a hard time picturing/hearing the song as House plays it, I found a couple of vids on YouTube that served as inspiration (if you want to check them out). Go to 'laylagalise' (that's my user name) on YouTube and check out the two 'Woman' covers on my favorites list (I would have posted the url, but I couldn't get it to save right on ). One is a more upbeat, jazzy version like House plays while Cuddy is talking. The other is close to the way I envision House playing as he sings to her (played lightly like that, but house would play is slower and, of course, Hugh's voice would be better).


	14. Chemistry Alternate Ending

**Author's Note (Part One): **I just wanted to let you all know how fabulous the reviews, alerts and reads are! Seriously, they are almost better than chocolate cake... Well, maybe they are a little better than chocolate cake... Here's the alternate ending I promised. Sorry it took so long, but my external hard drive decided to spaz out and die. That's where the original alternative ending and the first chapter of the sequel are currently trapped, so I had to re-write both... which took some time. Anyways, the alternate ending part starts at the end of the piano scene, so this chapter starts at the beginning of that scene. I hope the end's it's not too OOC-- it's really hard to write House opening up or being romantic IC since he almost never does it. I hope you like it! Enjoy! The characters belong to those people who created them, not me.

* * *

**Chemistry **

**(Alt. Ending)**

House sat at the piano in the lecture hall he had used to play fellowship survivor, playing an upbeat little piece he had written when he was with Stacey. It was composed before the infarction and lacked the dismal undertone of sadness that all of his music since possessed. He wondered, briefly, if he'd ever he happy enough again to write something as breezy and beautiful. He doubted that he would.

Suddenly, the door swung open at the back of the room, hitting the wall and interrupting his thoughts. The familiar clicking of heels was followed by a furious "House!"

He turned toward her, still seated on the bench and replied, "Scream it again, but this time make it throatier and moan a little."

"When were you going to tell me that Kutner and Taub got arrested?" she said angrily, clicking sounds growing louder as she descended the stairs.

"Kutner and Taub were arrested?" he said in mock-horror. "Oh my god! Are they alright?"

"You had them break into Mr. Shauer's apartment?" she said, raising her arms in disbelief.

"I had them do research in Mr. Shauer's apartment," he replied, turning back to face the keyboard.

"Research that got them arrested!" she yelled, now standing right beside him, hands on her hips.

"I'm right here, you don't have to shout." House started to play a different song, quietly. It was a jazzy interpretation of a pop song, one of the few after 1970 that he really liked. Though he didn't look up at her, he could feel Cuddy's frown grow more pronounced at the melody.

"House, do you know what you've done? It's bad enough that the doctors, the board and the president think I let you run around like a crazy person, but now the benefactors know. Until now the donors have never gotten wind of your schemes, your brushes with the law and hospital hierarchy. But since you didn't tell me that Kutner and Taub were arrested, I couldn't control the flow of information and now I have people threatening to take their money elsewhere!"

"You'll be able to talk them out of it," he said tickling the keys. "Just wear your lowest cut top, shortest skirt and lacy red bra. They'll be putty in your hands. It always works for me."

"No, it doesn't. You ignore everything I say, lacy bra or not. It never works on you. "

"Works in the shower at least," he smirked, continuing to play.

"_House_," she said seriously, "You have no idea how difficult my last meeting with the president was, how horrifying the last board meeting was. I had to throw a fundraiser just to pay for the MRI you broke. Or should I say, the third MRI you broke?"

"Technically, I didn't break it. Kutner and Thirteen did."

"When you disregard my orders, not only do you reek havoc, you make it abundantly clear that I can't control you."

"I didn't know that was a secret."

"It's something that we _want_ to keep secret because it's not exactly a desirable trait to have in a Dean. I'm supposed to be able to make you behave, when I can't it makes me look like I'm not capable... And that's bad because it could lead to me losing my job. And let's face it, if I go, you won't be far behind."

"You don't know that for sure. They could sack you and keep me around. Maybe I'll behave better for someone isn't such a tease," he said playfully.

Cuddy threw her hands up in the air and plopped down on the bench beside him. "I don't know what you want from me House."

"A lap dance would be nice," he kept joking.

She sighed, "Three board members are restless. After learning that you destroyed a third MRI, they were livid and rightfully so. You show no respect for hospital property, protocol or administration. They're tired of your ego, your superiority complex, the appalling way you treat patients and the contempt you show for them. They wanted me to fire you and I refused. Then they told me, in no uncertain terms, that the next time you caused problems for the hospital, they would be expecting me to. And if I didn't they would be forced to reconsider whether I am still have what it takes to be Dean."

"So, you're here to can me?"

"No, of course not."

"Cool. So we're good?"

"_No_, we are _not_ good. We are far from good," she said, exasperated. "I haven't fired you; I'm not going to fire you; which means that I might be fired. And it's not just three board members, other doctors are constantly complaining that I give you special privileges, that I favor you. The president of the university is beginning to doubt that I can handle you. The last time we talked, he let it be known that he thought my 'beside vigil', as he called it, after the bus accident was inappropriate. He thinks that our friendship is impeding me from doing my job. Who knows? Maybe it is. Maybe my personal feelings for you are getting in the way. I don't know," she finished softly.

They sat in silence for a moment as House continued to play the upbeat number, Cuddy waiting for a response, some acknowledgement that he understood. "Did you even listen to me? Or are you so caught up in that song that you can't bother to pay attention?" she asked. After a minute passed with no answer, she stood up. "I don't know what I expected," she mumbled to herself.

House exhaled slowly and stopped playing the happy tune. He plinked a few notes, "You turned Wilson down. Why?"

She shook her head, "I tell you I might, _we might_, lose our jobs and you want to talk about my love life."

He began a slow, bare melody, gently tapping the keys. "Wilson is a catch, at least most women think so."

"That's it? You're going to ignore everything I just told you and change subjects? You're not going to say anything?"

He played the strain a little louder, still as bare and slow. She frowned, letting a sharp breath escape her lips before turning to make her way up the steps.

Then House began sing, so quiet it was almost a whisper; a gesture that stopped her in her tracks. "_Woman, I can hardly express/ My mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness/ After all, I'm forever in your debt/ And woman, I will try to express/ My inner feelings of thankfulness/ For showing me the meaning of success_." He continued playing, but stopped singing.

"Sorry," he said in a hushed voice. Cuddy couldn't believe her ears; he was sincerely apologizing. Wondering what else he might say, she stayed, returning to bench, taking a seat beside him.

"Why are you so curious about James and me" she asked.

He shrugged and continued to play. "I'm interested. Every woman I've ever met loves Wilson. You're the only one who's ever turned him down."

"I find that hard to believe."

"He's every female's fantasy; intelligent, attractive, successful, sensitive, modest, charming, all of the qualities in men that Nora Ephron glorifies."

"True, he's all of those things." House frowned at her admittance. "But it wouldn't work between us."

"It could."

"No, we're friends. There's no passion, no fire. When I'm standing next to him, I don't get a charge; there's no spark."

"The spark could develop, you could light the fire."

"It doesn't work that way," she insisted, wanting him to understand. "You can't fake chemistry. You have it with someone people and some people you don't. Wilson and I don't have it. I've got it with--" She stopped herself and House raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I've had it before."

"The passion, the fire, the chemistry thing is that a deal-breaker?"

"I guess so."

The sat in silence, both lost in thought. After a few moments, House began singing again. This time a little louder, but just as sweetly. "_Woman I know you understand/ The little child inside the man/ Please remember my life is in your hands/ And woman, hold me close to your heart/ However distant, don't keep us apart/ After all it's written in the stars_," he finished the verse, but kept playing the tune.

"We have chemistry," he said, concentrating harder than he needed to on the keys. When she didn't reply right away, he continued, "At least, I think we do."

"Yes," she said slowly, "We do."

"We've got the deal-breaker," he said, leaning toward her as he continued to play.

"House, what exactly are you trying to say?" she said, further closing the space between them.

He looked up at her, "Maybe we should..." His voice trailed off and Cuddy's eyebrows were raised expectantly.

"Maybe we should?" she asked, hoping House would finish his sentence.

He looked down and stopped playing. House took his cane from the side of the piano and stood up. "Maybe we should get back to work," he finished lamely.

"You want to get back to work?" she asked incredulously, standing up. "_You?_"

"I do work sometimes," he smirked.

Her eyebrows furled. "You never want to work; you avoid it at all costs. And all of the sudden when you're finally--" she stopped herself.

"Finally what?" House asked curiously. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"I don't know, House," she snapped.

He studied her, "You said, 'when you're finally.' That implies that you thought you knew what I was going to say, that you have been waiting for me to say something--"

"Fine. Don't tell me," she turned to make her way up the stairs. But before she could go anywhere, House caught her arm and pulled her to a stop.

"What did you think I was going to say?" he asked, still holding on to her arm even though she continued to fight for its freedom. "What were you hoping I was going to say? Obviously it was something important because now you're all pissy--"

"I am not 'all pissy'!" she shouted, tugging her arm free of his grip.

"You wanted me to say something--"

"I wanted you to finish your thought--"

"I did. I said that we--"

"No, you didn't. You stopped yourself from saying whatever it was and said the idiotic work comment instead."

"No, I--"

"Whatever, House. You're right; I've got work to do and so do you. You need to figure out what's wrong with your patient so that your fellows don't go to jail."

"Why are you so angry?" he asked, a little perplexed.

"I am not angry."

"Pinched face, arms crossed, yelling, sure seems like you're angry--"

"I'm not angry! I'm disappointed. I thought something was different and I was wrong. I don't like being wrong," she began to walk up the steps.

"What did you think was different?" he questioned as she opened the lecture room door.

She turned to faced him, her eyes boring into his, "Something that is obviously never going to change." His eyes searched hers from across the room, but before he could ask another question, she turned and left.

* * *

"Interesting," Wilson replied taking a bite of his turkey club. He refused to acknowledge House's presence when his friend first sat down, but quickly forgave him after a speedy but sincere mumbled apology. It didn't hurt that House mentioned he knew about Wilson's purposeful omittance of several key pieces of the conversation he had with Cuddy about dating.

"Interesting? That's all you have to say?" House responded with irritation. "Aren't you supposed to impart some deep truth that will open my eyes and help me be a better person? Isn't that how this works?"

"Usually, I give you wisdom and counsel which you ignore in favor of doing exactly what you want anyway."

"You're useless," House said as he grabbed Wilson's fries and leaned back in his chair so the oncologist couldn't retrieve them. "This is the last time I come to you for advice."

"I'd give it to you if I thought you actually wanted it," he took another bite of food and followed it with a swig from his water bottle. "But you don't really. All you want is for me to agree with you. Tell you you did the right thing, that there was no other option."

"Would that be so hard?"

"House, you didn't do the right thing... Well, you almost did the right thing, but then you screwed it up, as usual."

"Is this where you tell me I screwed it up because deep down I just want to be miserable and alone? 'Cause it seems we made it to that point of the conversation."

"I'm not going to pretend to understand you any more, it only gives me headaches. All I know is, you baited her, serenaded her, wooed her, you reeled her in, you made her admit that the two of you had chemistry and then you threw her back."

"A fishing metaphor is the best you can do? Seriously?"

"Of course, I'm assuming that you actually _want_ her, that you're not just trying to screw with her."

House rolled his eyes, "I'm not trying to screw with her."

Wilson leaned close to his friend conspiratorially, "Are you actually admitting that you like her?" House looked across the cafeteria to his right, sighed deeply, subtlety nodded his head as if he found the question deeply annoying and then looked back at his friend with pleading eyes.

Wilson leaned back and chuckled, "I always thought that if I witnessed a miracle there would be more fanfare."

"Oh, shut up."

"You should be pleased. Admittance is the first step. The second step is recognizing the power within yourself to change."

"What are we at an AA meeting?"

"You have to find her, tell her how you feel and convince her to give you a chance all without insulting her or making an ass of yourself-- that's going to take a lot of power from within."

"You sound like Dr. Phil."

"You wanted my advice. My advice is tell her you like her."

"Such breadth and depth," House said sarcastically.

"I don't know what you were expecting; it's not brain surgery," Wilson said, finishing off his sandwich.

House stood up, throwing the empty fry basket on Wilson's tray, but before leaving, quietly asked, "Do you think she might feel--"

"I think so," Wilson smiled back, sympathetically.

House nodded and murmured a quick "thanks" before heading off to his office.

* * *

Lisa had left work early and decided to sweat all the worries of the day out in a hot bubble bath. She loved taking a tub, but hardly found the time to soak-- showers were more conducive to her busy schedule.

She allowed herself to drift off to the lulling voices of NPR discussing the day's news, hair pinned up, head poking out of the water and bubbles, legs extended and crossed, resting on the side of the tub. Lost in fantasies of George Clooney and Javier Bardem, she had almost forgotten the stress-filled morning and her frustrating conversation with House when she heard her doorbell ring.

Deciding that she would just wait for the visitor to leave, she remained firmly planted in the water. _Ding dong ding dong ding dong_. Lisa groaned and realized that the persistent salesman wouldn't go away until she answered the door.

Grumpily she climbed out of the bath, grabbed a towel and hastily dried off. Throwing her robe over her still slightly-damp body, she stomped to the door, put on her most intimidating face and threw it open.

House was surprised with the force the front door opened with and even more surprised, though very happily, in Cuddy's choice of garments. He stared at her, completely entranced, unable to hide his fascination. He appreciated the way the gray fabric clung to her wet skin, particularly to her breasts.

"Wow," he whispered so low that she couldn't hear.

"What are you doing here?" she asked testily, crossing her arms, ruining House's view.

His eyes traveled up her form until their eyes met. "I was thinking... was going to say... wanted to tell you..."

She raised her eyebrows and sighed. House took a deep breath and let his eyes look anywhere but at Cuddy.

"After the accident you were always hovering around, babying me, which I hated. I know I was a bastard because, let's face it I'm always a bastard, but you just kept hanging around like a dog who likes to get kicked--"

"Is this rambling going anywhere? Because I can wait until tomorrow to hear you compare me to a dog--"

"Just let me finish," he snapped; she sighed again. "You're always there, always around, driving me to the brink of insanity, screaming at me, making me want to kill myself--"

"Thanks for visiting," she interrupted. "I'll see you tomorrow." Cuddy began to shut the door, but House stopped her.

"I don't mind it. I don't mind when you drive me crazy, when you yell at me, when you get so passionate about something you become hysterical and throw your hands up in the air. I like the way you challenge me, the way we challenge each other, the way you stick up for me even though I don't deserve it, the way you forced Wilson and I to make up, the way you try to boss me around, the way you sashay away after you think you've won an argument, the way you refuse to leave me alone, the way you laugh at my sexist comments, the way you look when you just come out of the shower, the way you hired me when no one else would, the way you made a department for me, the way you can forgive me for all the stupid stuff I do, all the horrible things I say... The way that no matter how hard I push you, you still stick around. You care about me even though I..." his voice trailed off and he looked away. He mumbled, "I know that you can't... don't... You're intelligent and beautiful and thoughtful... and I guess I'm trying to say that I kind of like you."

He looked down, studying the handle of his cane, waiting for a reply. When there wasn't one, he nodded. He turned around without even a glance in her direction, already cursing himself for his vulnerability.

He had made it down two steps before Cuddy grabbed his sleeve and tugged hard, pulling him back toward her, forcing him to turn around. When he finally looked at her he was surprised to see her smile at him with glassy eyes.

They stared at each other for a long time, House searching her eyes for permission to kiss her, she anticipating what came next. After what felt like a lifetime, Lisa grew impatient. Tired of waiting, she stepped down onto the top stair.

"Why do I always have to be the one who concedes?" she asked. But before House could answer, she grabbed front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. Her lips lightly brushed against his and parted slightly, waiting for him to take control. He was too surprised, too in awe to move, too overwhelmed by what was happening to function. So she continued, cradling his face gently with her hands before sliding one around his neck and the other in his hair, deepening their kiss. After the shock died down and his limbs were functioning again, House put his arms around Cuddy, pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his, extinguishing all space between them. The world was put on pause, only the two of them standing on the steps in front of her house still moving, tangled in each other. They didn't part until House's cell began to ring.

"House," Cuddy said throatily as she pushed him away, "The phone."

"It can wait," he said pulling her to him.

She resisted,"It could be important. About your patient."

He sighed and answered, "Go away." It was Foreman with an update on Mr. Shauer.

While House was distracted by his phone conversation, Cuddy stepped up onto the porch, widening the distance between them. House watched, worried that she was having second thoughts. He was only half-listening when he heard Foreman tell him the patient was cured and the charges had been dropped.

"Great. Now leave me alone," House shut the phone and quickly climbed the steps to close the gap between him and Cuddy. "No more charges," he said, now practically on top of her.

"Mr. Shauer's cured?"

"He'll be discharged in the morning," he said, bending down to continue their kiss.

"House," she said, pushing him away. His heart dropped into his stomach, she had changed her mind. "I can't just make out with you on my front porch. My neighbor Mrs. Rosenbaum is watching." Cuddy nodded in the direction of a little old lady, staring at them from her front porch as she pretended to water her flowers.

"If she wants a show, lets give her one," he said taking another step toward her.

"I don't want to give her a show. She's the head of the neighborhood home owner's association; she could make my life hell."

"Fine," he grumbled, taking a step back. He picked up his cane from where he had dropped it and watched her walk into her house.

She made it three steps inside before she turned around and looked at him quizzically. "Don't you want to come in?" she asked, confused.

He grinned, "_Oh yeah_."

"Well, hurry up before I change my mind."

He limped toward the door, "You wouldn't change your mind; you're hot for me."

"What can I say?" she said as she shut the door behind him. "All that sarcasm and stubble turns me on."

* * *

**Author's Note (Part Two):** Done! I can't believe it! My first official finished fic! Yay! The sequel is titled "Dweller on the Threshold"... so for those of you following, can't wait to hear what you think! If you're not coming, thanks again for all your support! I really appreciate it! You guys are _awesome_!


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